


The Softening Blows

by sighclops



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:47:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 131,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9072346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sighclops/pseuds/sighclops
Summary: AU. Cassian and Jyn meet at a Halloween party.





	1. The Softening Blows

“So, what do you have to say to me?”

Cassian’s gaze lingers on his reflection in the floor length mirror. The store’s lighting makes him look washed out and tired, a little lifeless and a little overwhelmed. He stays there a moment longer before turning his attention to Bodhi, who’s leaning against a rack of XL shirts. His eyes are dark brown but in this lighting they look paler, and he’s smirking at Cassian.

And like, Cassian understands. Honestly, he does.

“You were right,” he says.

“Of course I’m right,” Bodhi says, tilting his head. He moves away from the rack of shirts and stands next to Cassian, their reflections stare back at them. There’s the two of them: Cassian in a long military coat with gold buttons and embroidery along the edges of the sleeves, Bodhi with his well worn WSU sweatshirt and his hair falling loose from where his ponytail sits at the base of his neck. He parts his lips. “It looks good, though.”

And it does. Cassian tugs at the jacket, it fits him snug around the shoulders and the navy color suits his skin tone, it makes him feel important. “It’s still a lousy costume.”

Bodhi shrugs. “What did you expect? It’s the day before Halloween.”

"What if I got a pirate hat?" he asks.

“What if you got a peg leg?” Bodhi answers, his lips splitting into a wide grin as he folds his arms over each other. He leans back against the mirror to Cassian’s right, outlined by his own reflection.

Cassian sighs, the sound slipping into a laugh as he raises his brows at Bodhi. Helpless. “What do I do?” he asks.

“First of all, you should’ve come costume shopping with me last week like I told you to,” Bodhi begins, his eyes finally staying on Cassian’s. Everything is washed out and the tiles on the floor are too shiny. It feels dull, it feels full of light, like a fire forgotten and burning out. Everything’s still burning, but Cassian feels good.

“Like your Darth Vader costume is so great,” he mutters.

“Secondly,” Bodhi continues, ignoring him, “you’re just gonna have to go with it. We don’t have the time to find you anything else.”

Cassian’s gaze wavers between his own reflection and Bodhi standing beside him. And it’s funny, because he thought he’d hate it here in Whitebridge. He thought he made a mistake the day he said goodbye to his dad and his sister, backing down the drive with all of his belongings in the backseat and nothing but the name of his roommate and a set of keys waiting for him here.

Truthfully, he was just hoping Bodhi wouldn’t be annoying. He wasn’t expecting them to get on so well, so quickly.

He remembers that first afternoon, the way the light poured into their apartment, the way him and Bodhi sat on their sofa, talking about school and life and anything that came to mind. It was easy. They ordered pizza and ended up watching The Notebook. He hasn’t really looked back since.

He glances at him now, shaking his head as he adjusts the coat on his shoulders. “I think I’m going to buy it,” he says.

“Like you have a choice.”

Cassian pouts. “But you like it, right?”

Bodhi appraises him for a long moment, his eyes move all along his body, forcing Cassian to shift his weight between his feet under such scrutiny. “Yeah,” Bodhi finally says. “It looks good.”

“Good.” Cassian takes the coat off, putting it back on the hangar. “Because I have to get going, I told my geography partner I’d meet him in about twenty minutes.”

“Do you have time to drive me back to our place?” Bodhi asks as they navigate the aisles of the store towards the checkout. There aren’t many people in here tonight and the one’s who are keep to themselves. It’s early evening and outside the sun is dipping into the the neon lights of the shopping plaza. There's a weird contrast between the two worlds, almost like there’s nothing there at all but it’s still sinking into the night.

And he doesn’t really have time to drive Bodhi back, their apartment is around the corner but he’s meeting Baze on the other side of campus. He glances at Bodhi, whose profile reflects the white lights while he sorts through the plastic bin of items next to the cash register. Cassian smiles to himself.

“Anything for you, babe,” he says before glancing down at the cashier. She watches them with a hint of a smile, her eyes crinkling when she hands Cassian the receipt and Bodhi puts down a compact of cheap eyeshadow. He looks up at Cassian, offering him a grin before they exit the store together.

Outside the half filled trees shake, and the air is cooler now as the lights of the plaza ignite. They leave shadows on the parking lot, stretching the streetlamps over the cars. There’s the sound of wheels rolling over the asphalt, there’s a group of teenagers laughing around one of the benches in front of the store, and there’s Bodhi’s idle chattering as they walk back to Cassian’s car.

Cassian tosses his bag into the back seat, turning on the heat first and pushing his hands in front of the air duct to warm them up. Bodhi gives him a look like _you’ve got to be kidding me_ , but he doesn’t say anything. He just watches Cassian while the dull yellow lights crawl over his skin and sink into the shadowed planes of his face.

They’re quiet until Cassian breathes out a frustrated breath at the turn onto their street. Despite being such a small town, their apartment is off of a main road, and it’s nearly impossible to turn left onto their street. Cassian taps his fingers against the steering wheel and he can almost _hear_ Bodhi rolling his eyes.

But the road clears enough for him to pull onto their street and he puts the car in park in their driveway. Everything sits still for a moment, the dark pools around the front lights of the house.

Bodhi puts his hand on the door handle, smiling at the corners of his lips, and says, “Don’t stay out too late or I might miss you.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” Cassian laughs. “I’ll be back soon.”

He watches Bodhi nod and finally open the door, waving as he passes in front of the car and up the steps. He fumbles with the keys, half shadow and half light, and slips inside. Cassian starts the car again, following the winding road back to the gas station--turning right this time--and the streets turn to clean lines beneath the streetlights.

Right then, quiet fills the car.

\--

“Are you ready?”

Cassian looks up, his gaze suddenly affronted by the sight of Bodhi dressed as Darth Vader from the neck down, much different than the night before. He frowns. “Where’s your helmet?”

Bodhi lets out a small laugh, entering Cassian’s room and flopping down on the bed. “I can’t see with it on,” he says. Cassian glances to his reflection in the full length mirror. “And since we’re walking there I don’t want to, you know, die.”

“I assumed that’s why you were taking me.”

He watches Bodhi run a hand through his hair through the reflection, everything a little distorted and backwards. “I’m taking you because I love you.” Bodhi says with his eyes closed.

“Will you still love me if I don’t wear the eyepatch?” Cassian asks. The offending piece of eyewear sits on his bureau next to his cologne and jar of spare change, along with a picture of him and his sister. “It’s too tight for my head.”

He looks up to see Bodhi frown. It’s kind of a ridiculous sight, the way he’s curled up on Cassian’s bed with the pillow tucked under his head and his cape covering his body like a blanket.

“Okay,” he says, “but you didn’t buy a hat. So you won’t look like a pirate at all. Honestly, Cass, it’s Halloween.”

“So?”

“You will be judged.”

Cassian laughs, turning away from his reflection. His room is all afternoon sun carving the reflection of the windows onto the walls, and over the wooden doors of his closet. The shadows creep in and sit in the corners, the lights are off and all he can really see is Bodhi.

“But you’re not wearing your helmet,” Cassian says, sitting down at the end of the bed.

Bodhi picks himself up to lean on one elbow. “Yeah, because if I wear it no one will be able to see my face. I think you’ll be able to survive without one eye.”

“I can’t,” he says, and he lays back along the end of the bed, his head near Bodhi’s legs, whose feet are hanging off the side. Cassian lets out a long breath, staring at the ceiling for a moment before saying, “I won’t.”

Bodhi lets out a small sound, Cassian turns his head to face him.

“Then there was no point in you buying the jacket, you might as well go as yourself at this point,” he says. His eyebrows are raised and his mouth is all serious. Cassian rubs his eyelid with his knuckle as he tries to tamp down the smile on his face.

“I can still be a pirate,” he says. “It’s all in the attitude.”

Bodhi sits up completely this time, still serious. He looks like he’s going to say something but he ends up closing his mouth and turning his head towards the light, the outline of the window frame hits the black of his costume. He shakes his head before his lips part in a smile and he’s getting off the bed, offering Cassian a hand.

“Let’s pretend that’s true,” he says once he helps Cassian to his feet. “It’s not like you have time to change, anyway.”

“You say that like I would change if I could.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” Bodhi says, but he turns away and Cassian knows he isn’t upset, because he knows Bodhi.

Cassian huffs out a breath around a smile. “See you say these things, and somehow I still love you.”

“Not sure I believe that one, pal.”

Bodhi turns to him this time, his lips are cracked at the corners and he rolls his eyes at Cassian--he always rolls his eyes at Cassian but it’s so familiar and not a lot here is, so Cassian shakes his head and throws an arm around Bodhi’s shoulders, leading them out of his room and towards the door.

“Trust me,” Cassian continues. They walk down the stairs at the same pace, one foot after another. The lights are on and Cassian tucks his free hand into his pocket. Everything feels very still and quiet. “No one’s going to say anything.”

The trees are shaking and the sky is a clear, low blue. The streetlamps are on, becoming brighter the longer they stay walking on the sidewalk. Cassian lets Bodhi guide them since he doesn’t know where they’re going. He’d offered to drive, but apparently no one drives in Whitebridge and Bodhi’s convinced it would be in poor taste to show up in a car.

Honestly, whatever.

He listens to Bodhi tell him about his philosophy classes--it’s a jumble of too many papers and staying up too late studying. He listens to Bodhi and he watches the trick-or-treaters--the kids dressed in silly costumes and running ahead of their parents, no idea that this’ll just be a memory one day, a night they’ll be able to look back on and say, _that was a nice Halloween_.

Cassian smiles when a small boy in a ghost costume runs right in front of him and Bodhi, pillowcase tight in his hands as he calls to his friends up ahead of them.

It pulls a little at Cassian’s chest. He’s not quite able to drive back the memories of his own childhood. He’d dressed like a cowboy three years in a row, running wild through the neighborhood with his friends and his little sister who tagged along, feeling free and reckless even as their parents would watch from the sidewalk.

It’s kind of funny, you know, the way that life changes...

He looks over his shoulder when they reach the house, catching one last glimpse of the boy in the sheet with holes to see through. When he looks back up he’s met with the sight of Bodhi’s black cape billowing behind him, catching all the light from the lantern next to the door.

\--

Inside, the house is full of sound.

It all sort of blurs together: the bassline and the drums, the shouting and the laughter echoing off the walls until it sounds a lot like being drunk. Which--Cassian’s not sure if he’s there yet. He’s in the kitchen with Leia, who’s in his accounting class, and he’s watching the lights ignite behind her red cape. The walls are covered in light and shadow, all yellow and orange from strings of lights lining the ceiling and the cabinets.

There’s plastic jack-o-lanterns on the counters and silver and gold balloons on the table and in the corners of the room. There’s these plastic, sparkly letters on the wall that say _Happy Birthday_. There might’ve been a cake but it’s hard to say for sure, the lights were on when he first got here, but now it’s all orange light and gray shadows. The house glows like a carousel.

Everything spins.

And Leia’s still talking, but she’s always talking and Cassian likes the sound of her voice. He likes the way his jacket feels around him right now, secure and familiar and he feels a little blurry from the alcohol but it’s nearing midnight and he lost Bodhi a short while back.

“God, don’t let me eat anymore of those little candies,” she says. “I can’t justify it anymore. Size does not excuse quantity.”

Cassian watches her eyes crinkle at the corners when she scrunches her nose up, tossing a wrapper onto the counter. The music is a blur of sound and he can’t seem to focus on anything more than what’s in front of him.

“But you like them,” he says. “And it’s Halloween, who cares?”

She rolls her eyes, shiny with alcohol. “Enabler.”

He raises a brow. “Oh come off it, life is short. It wouldn’t be a holiday unless you felt sick to your stomach.”

“You’re terrible,” she says, but she unwraps another candy and winks at him. “I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

“Because no one else is competent enough to be your partner in class?”

“If that makes you feel better, sure.”

Cassian lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head as he looks away. “It does, actually.”

“Of course,” she says, and she sets down her drink. The sounds of the party come in waves, rolling over them and it doesn’t seem to affect Leia. “Hey, have you seen Han?” she asks.

And Cassian tries not to laugh, because he’d only known Leia for a few days before Han Solo inevitably made his presence known. The two fight almost as much time as they spend together, which Cassian isn’t sure he understands, but he has a few theories.

“I haven’t seen him,” he answers, but he looks to his right, where he can see into the living room. It’s a crowd of bodies and a blur of color, blinking and blinding and slow.

Leia just nods. “Would you judge me if I went to go look for him?”

“No,” he says, and his voice has slipped into something soft as it eases beyond his lips. There’s something about the lights right now, the way his body feels like it’s heavy and weightless at the same time. There’s something about the look in Leia’s eyes as she glances over his shoulders that makes him smile like there’s nothing else he could possibly do.

“I’ll see you around, Cass,” she says, and she doesn’t wait for him to say anything before she’s nodding at someone beyond him. He follows her gaze, and when he turns back he’s lost her to the crowd of the living room and he blinks hard, trying to steady himself in the kitchen while people filter in and out.

“And what are you supposed to be?”

Cassian blinks at the question. Turning his head, he’s met with a girl who comes up to his chin. Her wide green eyes are glassy and she’s smiling through it, giving her a manic, sort of eerie glow.

“Um,” he says. His tongue sort of sticks in his mouth and right, he knows that’s unattractive. “A pirate?”

He watches as her face changes, shifting into a frown as she leans her head back to get a better look at him. “But you don’t look like a pirate,” she says. “You look like Christopher Columbus.”

“Oh, _thanks_.” He bites his lip for a moment, squinting down at her. “You sound like my roommate.”

Her frown increases. “Who’s that?”

“Bodhi Rook.”

This time she huffs out a heavy breath, steadying herself with one hand on the counter and the other on her hip. He wants to laugh, because she’s dressed as a ladybug with a red and black tunic, the hint of wings lining each side. She looks back up at him with those stupidly green eyes, even in the orange glow of the kitchen. The red letters on the wall still read _Happy Birthday_ over the table.

“Well now I know you’re lying to me,” she says. “Bodhi moved away with his family last summer.”

“No, his family moved. He stayed behind for school.”

“Bodhi,” she says.

Cassian nods.

“Bodhi Rook? Really?”

“Yes, really,” he says, shifting his weight between his feet. The kitchen has cleared out a bit now, the music is still loud around them but he feels weird. Like, the world is spinning but he’s standing still. Does that make sense?

“Who are you, anyway?” she asks. “I know everything that happens in this stupid town, so I’m finding this whole encounter disturbing.”

He raises a brow at her. All he says is, “Obviously you don’t know everything, then.”

She squints. “Funny.”

“I’d like to think so.” He smiles at her and like, the lighting in the kitchen is all weird but he finds the way it glows across her face appealing. The way her cheekbones cut in, the way her eyes keep blinking slow, slow, slowly up at him. He doesn’t want to look away.

And her features relax, the music in the other room continues to pound away but it’s too muddy to make out the words.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she says. “What’s your name?”

Cassian tilts his head, his smile grows a bit bigger. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would,” she says seriously, her brow tweaking down. And like, he’s trying to tell if she’s serious or not. As it is, she keeps her gaze fixed on his.

So he straightens his grin out, extending his hand. “Cassian.”

She takes his hand without breaking eye contact. “Jyn.”

The name sounds familiar, Cassian runs it around his head a few times, unable to place it until he glances away from her, up at the bright red letters above the table.

“This is your birthday party, then?” he asks.

Jyn nods. “Yeah, November first, which--everything’s always Halloween. To be honest, I don’t care for it a bit.”

“Could be worse I guess, you could’ve been born the day after Christmas--hey wait,” he says, “how old are you?”

“Twenty.”

He smiles. “You’re a month older than me.”

“Oh,” she says, her mouth shuts with a click and then she breaks into a wide grin. “I had no idea you were a little baby.”

He raises a brow. “I’m sorry?”

“You know,” she continues, putting her hand against his arm for just a second. “When I was your age, I was chatting up strangers at Halloween parties, too.”

Cassian watches her for a long, long moment before bursting out into a sharp laugh. “Are you drunk?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know the meaning of the word.”

And it’s like--the longer she watches him, the longer he watches her. That should be normal, right? He doesn’t feel normal, he feels like he needs a cigarette.

“Little baby Cassian,” she says quietly, more to herself, before her gaze wanders over her own shoulder, back to where the party is still going on. Honestly, Cassian forgot about that a bit. He just watches her while she seems to sort herself out. Eventually her gaze focuses back on him. “I’ll see you around, okay? Say hi to Bodhi for me.”

“Okay,” he says, and his eyes move all over her face in a last attempt to remember it. His head feels a little fuzzy and for some reason he can’t seem to stomach the thought of her moving away from him right now, but she smiles at him one more time before he has to watch her back disappear into the crowd. The gold light still flickers around him.

 _Happy Birthday_ is still above the table.

Cassian smiles to himself.

\--

He swallows around a mouthful of whatever is in his cup.

And like, it’s _awful_. He throws the rest of it in the open trash can at the corner of the room. He’s in the most crowded room now, there are bodies everywhere--he didn’t know this many people lived in this town, to be honest--but he’s surrounded now.

It only takes a few moments for the familiar faces to stand out in the crowd. Leia captures his attention the easiest because she’s standing near a plastic jack o'lantern and it’s making her cape look like it’s on fire. She’s talking to Brianna now, but she glances over at Cassian, turning away before looking back at him with a smile.

He returns the smile before he pushes through the crowd, back to the kitchen because his mouth is dry and still tastes like whatever he was drinking before.

And apparently it’s where Jyn is, too.

Her wings are the first thing he notices, all mesh with black spots on them--which, Cassian doesn’t think that’s quite right, but she’s leaning over the counter and then she’s turning to face him. Her eyes crinkle in confusion before her features settle into a smile.

“I ran into Bodhi,” she says. “He's really drunk. We talked about you.”

Cassian laughs, reaching over the counter to grab a bottle of water. “Oh that’s--that’s great. He’s actually in love with me, did you know that?”

Her reaction moves over her face slowly at first, like she’s hesitating before she’s scrunches her nose and turns her head the other way. When she turns back to him she’s lit up with a smile. “I didn’t know that, no. His costume is worse than yours, I think.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Jyn shakes her head. “Not really. I mean, you could take it that way but you’d be wrong. It’s Halloween, come on, be creative.”

“I’m sorry, not everyone can pull off a ladybug costume like you can.”

“See there’s a nice compliment. Here, let me give you one back.”

“You don’t have to,” he says.

“Too late,” she answers, and then it’s quiet between them as she leans back, looking him up and down. Her mouth quirks at the corners before she takes a large step back. Cassian raises a brow and she nearly doubles over with a bark of laughter. “I can’t--I can’t think of anything.”

Cassian would be offended, but he starts laughing too. He doesn’t know why, but he’s laughing and he’s shaking his head. “You’re kind of the worst,” he says.

When she finally takes a breath she rolls her eyes. “I know.”

“I wasn’t being serious,” he answers quickly.

She rolls her eyes again. “I _know_.”

And he presses his lips together, keeping his eyes from wandering around the angles of her face and focusing them on her eyes. That seems to be her thing--eye contact, because with both conversations she’s barely wavered away. The party is going on around them but Cassian feels like he’s the only thing she knows exists.

It makes his head spin.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’m just--I don’t know. I feel weird.”

He nods. “Me too.”

A small smile tilts the corners of her lips up. Her eyes waver between his and then she closes them for a short moment. She clears her throat. “Okay, then. Good.”

Cassian watches her lift a hand as she waves, filling the space between them. He watches her leave again.

He doesn’t smile this time.

\--

Someone’s shouting next to him but Cassian’s eyes are almost closed now. He stopped looking for Bodhi about a half hour ago, instead he decided to dance with Leia and the other bodies crowded in the living room. The music's too loud to make out any of the words but he thinks he recognizes the song. His head feels heavy, he doesn’t really care.

He opens his eyes, glancing down to see Leia’s hands on his chest. He laughs but he can’t really hear it, and he leans into her ear.

“Dance with him,” he says.

When he pulls back she’s shaking her head with a glare. She glances to her right, where Han is leaned against the wall, nodding along to the beat. See, one of Cassian’s theories is that despite the near constant bickering between the two of them, they might actually be perfect for one another.

So he might just nudge her towards him.

“Cassian!” she hisses, but she’s trapped by the crowd and the lights flicker around her. The music's too loud to fully hear anything, but he still doesn’t care. Han notices the commotion, turning his head towards them and his face automatically smoothes into a smile, his eyes crinkle and stay on Leia. Cassian wants to laugh but he moves away, ignoring the look that she’s shooting him.

He turns and all he sees are green eyes, brown hair, and the world’s worst ladybug costume.

This time he laughs.

She’s already close, she’s too close and she’s tilting her head back. He watches her lips move along to the music. And she’s dancing, but her hands keep brushing against him, eventually crawling up his chest to rest on his shoulders. He’s tempted, he’s so tempted to put his hands on her, but he keeps them loose and away from her, afraid she’ll leave again if he does.

So he wets his lips, keeping the beat while he watches her dance, her hands are still on him and he doesn’t think he can breathe.

Jyn tilts her head back, just keeping his gaze for a long moment before she slips into a laugh that carries on even longer. She leans forward, up to his ear so that he can feel her jaw and her hair against his neck.

“I thought of a compliment,” she says, leaning back to gauge his reaction. He just tilts his head slightly, trying to remember what she’s talking about through his foggy head. “You’re prettier than Christopher Columbus,” is what she says before her hands are off of him and she’s backing up, turning away and slipping into the crowd. He loses sight of her ladybug headband shortly after that, and his stomach sinks low and sickly.

\--

The shadows on the walls grow darker as the night goes on.

Cassian is hardly paying attention now, the orange lights sting the corners of his eyes, his hands are anxious, and his lungs are itching for a cigarette. The pounding of the bass in his chest isn’t welcome anymore, it’s making him dizzy and he’d really like to close his eyes.

So that’s how he finds himself out on the back deck, where the air is cold and settles over him while the music in the house is dulled to a muted sound, but the bassline still makes its way through. It’s also, maybe not so surprisingly, where he finds Jyn again.

She notices him first, he thinks, because she’s already watching him when he sees her. She’s standing towards the end of the deck, and she was talking to someone but she pulls away from them and towards Cassian.

“Shoot it’s cold out,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets as he approaches her.

“Baby,” Jyn says, a smirk playing all over her pretty features.

He shakes his head, pouting a little. He’s having a hard time looking at her right now, his gaze keeps wandering across the backyard where the woods loom darkly beyond them.  “I’m not a baby,” he says quietly.

“Oh?” and the sound falls from her lips. “Are you sure? You look sort of peaky.”

Cassian breathes low, glancing around the deck before bringing his gaze back to her persistent eyes. “Yeah, I guess. You wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette on you, would you?”

She shakes her head with a jolt of anger. “I hate ‘em. My dad used to smoke. Absolutely awful, if you ask me.”

And right, he knows most people hate smoking, but for some reason he feels like apologizing to her. It unnerves him, and he swallows down the desire to ask about her dad. Instead he turns his head towards the backyard again, and lets the silence sit between them while he tries to sort through his thoughts.

“Why?” she asks eventually. “You all out?”

He forces another swallow down, turning back to her. “Yeah,” he says, and he watches the way her eyes shift around his face, dipping low only to come back again. Everything sits too dim in the dark but she’s all light.

“Let’s get out of here, then. This party’s getting on my nerves.”

He raises a brow down at her. “And go where?”

“I work at a drugstore by the university, we could pick you up a pack.”

“What’s in it for you?”

She does a half shrug, the motion shifting her arms where they’re crossed over her chest. He thinks she might’ve meant it to look casual, but it doesn’t really work. “I’m bored and it’s my birthday. I want to do something I’ve never done before.”

He watches her lips move as she speaks, the sound fills the cold night air. “And what’s that?” he asks.

“I don’t know, stop asking questions.” And with that she shuffles through the crowd on the deck, pushing the slide door open. She glances over her shoulder at him before tipping her head towards the house. “Come on.”

He rolls his eyes, moving past the bodies and towards the light. “Bossy,” he says, smiling down at her, watching her smile back and then he’s following her through the house. The lights feel darker than they did before, just low orange shadows on the wall now. The string lights have gone out and on their way to the door, Cassian makes out the words _Happy Birthday_ one last time.

\--

Under the porch lights the evening swims in gold and deep blue and Jyn goes ahead of him as he breathes in the cool air. The streets are empty by now. It’s that time of night where you can’t decide whether or not you should call it morning, but Cassian thinks it might be both. Night, morning, is there really a difference?

“Are you cold?” he asks when he catches up to her.

She looks up at him and--and he’s been looking at her and his hand automatically brushes her hair back from where it’s caught in her wing. He’s wondering how much he’s had to drink tonight, because his fingertips stay on the edge of her wing for too long, just feeling the fuzzy material, and he wants to compare her to the headlights of a car, he thinks maybe he can see how far they stretch out ahead.

“My teeth feel weird,” she says, and Cassian’s trying to understand what that means before she clarifies. “Like they want to chatter but my jaw won’t let them. Does that sound weird?”

“Yeah,” he says, and he grins. They’re walking towards the main street but they’re walking slowly and the houses don’t seem to pass at all. He takes off his coat, the cold hits his chest, his arms, and he holds it out for her to take.

She rolls her eyes in response, but she reaches for it anyway, keeping it on her shoulders. It’s an odd shape because it’s already too big on her but it sits over her wings and makes her headband look a bit ridiculous. He bites down a smile because he has the feeling she wouldn’t like it if he told her how cute it is. But it is--the odd mishmash of clothes and the determined face she’s making, the way her chin points just slightly and her hair falls over her shoulders.

He turns his gaze back to the sidewalk.

“So you go to school here?” she asks. “I mean, I can’t imagine what else you would be here for.”

He’s watching the street now. “Yeah, I just transferred here this semester.”

“Explains why I don’t know you.”

His brows quirk. “So yeah, explain that. You seem to hate this place but at the same time you know everything about it.”

“Right, yeah. Trust me, Whitebridge is your typical small town with all its quirks and supposedly friendly faces. It seems nice, but they’ll all talk about you behind your back the second you turn around. Everybody knows everybody....the whole small town mentality is toxic.”

“You really mean that,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Yeah, I just--I hate it here.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, because so far he’s really loved it here. His whole life he’s only really had his group of friends and big schools where it’s impossible to know everyone’s name. It’s nice just to recognize faces around town.

“What are you studying?” she asks after they turn onto the main street. A car that rushes by, making him feel like they’re walking in slow motion.

“Economics,” he answers. “I know, it’s not very exciting.”

She looks up at him. “What would be exciting to you?”

“Um,” he says, the word sort of sticking in his mouth. He glances down at her but she’s looking ahead now, her skin is tinged yellow with the streetlamps’ light. He looks back up at the street. “I’m not sure, actually. Probably art, or music, or something like that.”

“You fancy yourself an artist?”

This time she’s meeting his eyes when he looks at her. He laughs a bit, and the sound splutters into the empty space between them. “No, not at all,” he says. “Just, you know, it would be exciting.”

“Nothing at that university is exciting,” she says, looking ahead of herself. “I mean, if you want to be an artist, be an artist. What’s sitting in class going to do for you other than drive you crazy?”

“Well, you get better. I wouldn’t want to go to a doctor who never went to medical school, you know, just because he wanted to be a doctor.”

Jyn barks out a sharp laugh, letting it dissolve into smaller bursts and she turns her head away from him when they slow down at the main intersection of town. There’s not many cars but the streetlights are still all full of light, reds and greens echoing onto the pavement.

“Not what I meant, but okay,” she says, grabbing his hand. She glances up at him with a smile before pulling at his arm and running across the street. He’s sort of helpless to follow.

It’s when they’re running across the street--the light is green, of course--that he remembers they’re still in their costumes. He laughs at the thought, at the sight of ladybug wings ahead of him, her delicate hand wrapped around his. She lets go when they’re on the other side, but he can still feel the echo of her grip.

They walk in silence after that. It’s only a little further to the drugstore, and Cassian knows this part of town best because he’s always driving by to park for school. His morning class is in the building right behind it.

“So you work here?” he asks as soon as they’re approaching the store. The yellow light is spilling from the automatic doors, spilling all over signs for costumes and candy and half priced makeup.

“Yeah,” she says. “It’s all I do, actually. I’m saving up to get out of here.”

“And how’s that working out?”

She glances up at him like she can’t tell if he’s asking her seriously or if he’s making fun of her. “Not very well, if I’m honest. My aunt makes me pay rent because she knows I’d leave if she didn't."

He tries to figure out what that means, but what he says is, “Do you always just say whatever it is that’s on your mind?”

“Just when my head feels like this,” she says. “Go get your cigarettes, I’ll be right back.”

Cassian watches her turn down one of the aisles, disappearing as she turns to the left. He stands there dumbly for a long moment, trying to comprehend what this night’s turned into. He didn’t even tell Bodhi he was leaving.

Looking back to the counter, Cassian buys a pack of cigarettes. He waits for a long moment, looking at the magazines, the candy, even the fake blood in those little packets before Jyn reappears, her hands held behind her back.

“Oh God,” he says. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing dangerous, if that’s what you were asking.”

“It wasn’t.”

She laughs. “Go get a head start without me, I don’t want to be around all that smoke, anyway.”

Cassian doesn’t want to leave but she shoos him with one hand, the other is still held behind her back. He watches her for a while--it feels like a while, at least--but then he’s leaned against the side of the building, blue smoke filtering into the air.

It’s still cold, he has his free hand tucked into his pants pocket, and he keeps his arms pulled close to his body. He smokes and he waits, closing his eyes when his they start to feel funny and his head starts to hurt.

When he opens them it’s to the sound of Jyn walking through the automatic doors. She looks at him and it’s like his whole body is warm, then.

“Ready?” she asks. She has a plastic bag in her hands and Cassian vaguely remembers her saying she wants to do something she’s never done before, so he doesn’t know what to expect.

“Are you?” he returns, with a significant glare at her bag.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says casually.

“I am, though,” he says, but still he walks beside her. “Worried about it.”

They’re walking back towards campus, where the lights of the buildings sit low in the night. The only other light comes from the streetlamps and the stoplights, the brake lights and headlights of cars passing.

She breathes out, the sound turning into a laugh at the end. “I thought you weren’t a baby.”

“I’m not,” he defends, but his voice sounds whiny and she looks up at him immediately, doubt all over her face. “I’m not,” he says more pointedly, in a deeper voice.

She stops walking, Cassian’s a bit startled by the absence of her at his side, so he stops too, turning back to face her.

“Hey,” Jyn says, coming closer. “It’s fine, I promise we’re not doing anything dangerous.”

“Promise?”

She shakes her head. “You really are a baby,” she says, but she holds out her fist, pinky extended towards him.

Cassian smiles at her, keeping her gaze as he reaches down, locking her pinky with his.

“Thank you,” he says.

She frowns a bit, looking up at him with her brows all furrowed. “You have nice hands,” she says plainly.

Cassian laughs, but he doesn’t answer because, like, how do you answer something like that?

He begins to walk again, her at his side this time and they’re fully on campus at this point. They pass the brick building of campus center, walking towards the science building. The sky is a dull grey now, blinking slowly between the building lights. Cassian’s itching for another cigarette. 

“This way,” she says, and she pulls on his arm, leading him off of the sidewalk. There’s a gravel path and he’s seen it before, but he’s never been down it.

In any case, he follows her.

The greenhouse looms over them before she lets go of his arm. It’s weird, because he knows about it, he knows people who work here, and he must walk by it every day, but it’s different now. It glows yellow, a holy glow that makes the trees on the outside fuzzy, the plants on the inside all dark green, and the science building is directly on their right but all Cassian can see is the greenhouse.

She stops them outside the door, her face is half illuminated with yellow light. It sinks into the dip of her eyes, the bow of her lips. It makes her ladybug costume look orange.

He watches her reach into her bag, watches her pull out a rectangular package that’s too difficult to make out in this light. He cranes his neck to attempt to see over her hands but she shakes her head, pulling it away from him and over her shoulder.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” she says, but she smiles at him before she opens the door to the greenhouse.

Once again, he follows her.

Inside, the greenhouse is full of life. Cassian’s never been good at plant names, but he recognizes a few. There’s a certain aliveness consuming the space, it’s warm and cramped from large green leaves in rows, trees in individual pots, and the air is misty and humid.

“I told you it wasn’t anything dangerous,” she says, and in her hands is a disposable camera. “Frankly, I’m a little offended that you don’t blindly trust me.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he rolls up his sleeves, watching as she reaches into the thin plastic bag again. This time she’s pulling out a...pen?

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Jyn holds it up to him. “It’s a marker. I saw online that if you draw over the flash it will change the color of your photos.”

She crouches down, balancing the camera on her knees as she uncaps the marker. It’s purple and she makes quick work of filling in the flash. Cassian’s eyes stay on her hands the whole time.

“Smile!” she says, and she points the camera at him. He barely manages to twist his lips before the flash goes off and he’s blinking echoes of colors into the gold room. When his vision clears she’s there, and what a thought that is...

“Nearly blinded me,” he mutters, and she laughs but she’s moving down the aisle now, pointing the camera at different plants, the flash going off every time.

He spends a long time just watching her, the angle of her jaw, the way her hands wrap around the camera. Her smile and how she’s always looking for something to take a picture of, rearranging certain plants and he knows they’re not allowed to even be in here, but he can’t bring himself to care.

She comes back to him, his coat hanging over her elbow and camera in the other hand. “There’s only two left,” she pouts.

“Better make them count,” he answers, sitting up. “How do you know that’ll work, anyway?”

“I don’t,” she says, and her expression is a forced kind of nonchalant. He wants to know what that means. “But I can give you the doubles when I develop them.”

“Does that mean I get to see you again?”

She quirks a brow. “Why, are you interested?”

He looks at her too quickly, she’s grinning.

He shrugs, going for nonchalant because right, two can play that game. “Maybe.”

She watches him for a long moment. It’s a long moment and it’s him and her, them standing in the warm greenhouse.

She puts his coat back on.

“Come on,” she says, “you can walk me home.”

The night air washes over them. The campus is silent as they walk back to the main street, the lights echo into the dark, the stars blink out of sight behind the clouds shifting across the moon. They don’t say anything for a few minutes, not until he can feel Jyn’s gaze on his profile, and when he turns his head she’s watching him.

“What?” he asks, itching to run his hands along his forearms. He’s freezing.

“Where do you live?”

He doesn’t answer right away, like he has to consider it or something, he doesn’t know why he does it. He does it anyway. “Up around the corner,” he says, pointing ahead of them. It’s funny, because he can’t really think of his street name at the moment, but he can see it in his head. He can picture it, but he can’t say it.

“Okay,” she says. “Well this is mine.”

They turn right, down a street with a bright orange DETOUR sign at the end of it. Cassian’s stomach rolls and he has to blink a few times, aware that he’s moving but he doesn’t think he’s walking at all. He takes a deep breath and his head swims a little bit, when he looks down their arms are linked. He doesn’t know when that happened.

Finally they’re standing in front of a small white house, and Cassian thinks that the door might be yellow but it’s hard to tell in this light. It’s hard to tell a lot of things but when he looks at Jyn she’s still in focus.

“I had a good time tonight,” she says, smiling softly at him. “Thanks for coming with me.”

He nods, trying to ignore the desire to kiss her. It’d be so easy, too, with her face tilted up towards him. She sways closer and she has a hand on his arm.

“Goodnight,” he says, and for a second he hates himself before he leans forward and presses his lips against her cheek. He must stay there for too long because he can feel it when she smiles. He pulls back and it’s like, she’s so beautiful. Even with her headband hanging crookedly off of her head, and her bangs hanging limply into her eyes. He’s never seen anything like her.

“Goodnight,” she says back, and he thinks that maybe her teeth are glowing in the moonlight. Maybe she’s just full of her own light.

It’s when she’s walking up the steps that his brain catches up to him. “Wait,” he calls, and he jogs a little to meet her in front of the door. She raises a brow at him when he takes the plastic bag from her hand, pulling out the disposable camera. “You said you had two pictures left, right?”

“Yeah,” she says, and looks confused for a moment while Cassian winds the flash.

“Smile,” he says, and he pulls her close, aiming the camera at the two of them. It can’t be a good picture, his hand is unsteady and he has no idea how much of their faces are in the shot, but. They’ll find out.

And they’re still standing on the front steps, he knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he has to move, but he can’t seem to make his legs work. He watches her and she watches him and it’s a long time until he inevitably says, “Goodnight. Again. I’m glad I met you.”

She nods. “Same.”

When he makes his way down the drive, there’s another bright flash of the camera. He turns. “What was that for?” he calls.

There’s a big grin on her face. “I wanted a picture of you leaving.”

“Okay,” he says, and it’s more to himself and he doesn’t really think anything of it, anyway. He thinks about the color of the greenhouse and the way that the music of the party felt trapped inside his skin. He thinks of ladybug wings and he walks home in a dream, untethered.


	2. The Blind Heights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this chapter out asap because I won't be home for the next two weeks. Thank you for all the positive feedback so far, you have all my love.
> 
> If you want to discuss any part of Rogue One or this fic or if you just want to talk in general, you can find me on [tumblr](http://halflunar.tumblr.com/)!

The sun is too warm on Cassian’s face.

The curtains are only slightly parted, but it’s enough to cast a line of light over his cheek and nose and left eye. His mind is slow to come to life, and he’s sweating, he realizes belatedly, his whole body feels like it’s on fire and he doesn’t think it’s because of the morning sunlight.

His stomach turns over itself again and again and he has to roll over to lay on his back, staying perfectly still for a long moment, and focuses on his breathing until it settles down enough for him to sit up.

Hey, he has experience with this.

Surveying his surroundings, his room looks relatively the same as it did last night. He doesn’t quite remember coming home, but he’s tangled up in a white long sleeve t-shirt and boxers, and there’s a glass of water on his bedside table that he suspects came from Bodhi.

His stomach isn’t happy about the water, but Cassian forces himself to drink the whole glass before he gets up. He does a strange, half stutter step, blinking blearily into the hall because his door is wide open and his feet are sore and he wonders idly if never drinking again is an achievable goal.

It should be, at least, because everything is a shade too bright and he doesn’t like the way that he feels. Off, but crawling his way back to normal.

Bodhi is sat at the kitchen table, and there’s a plate to his right that’s just crumbs against the green porcelain pattern. It came from Cassian’s grandmother, because she was convinced that two boys living together would never buy themselves nice things, let alone plates. In Bodhi’s hands is a thick packet of paper, and he has one of his textbooks open in front of him.

“Are you studying?” Cassian asks, sitting down at the head of the table. His fingers grip the light colored wood tightly in an attempt to ground himself. “It’s ten in the morning.”

“Good morning to you too,” Bodhi says, and his voice is just a shade too cheerful. He writes something with his pen before putting it down and focusing his attention on Cassian. “Would you like some breakfast? There’s still some eggs in the sink from your attempt to cook last night.”

“What?” Cassian turns his head to his right, where the kitchen looks relatively clean. “Did I? I honestly don’t remember much after--after--”

The click and flash of a disposable camera, silver balloons and string lights lining her profile. He remembers moving in slow motion, the heaviness and blurriness of being alive last night, the way her hand gripped his as they ran through the intersection. Green lights, green lights, blue smoke and the damp pavement. All of it--a dream.

“You stopped trying after you burned yourself on the stovetop,” Bodhi says, laughing to himself. “I cleaned most of it up.”

Cassian looks down at his hands where, sure enough, there’s an angry red mark on his left palm, right along the edge. “I really don’t remember this,” he says, vacantly enough that he has to wonder if he meant to say it at all. He blinks and looks back up at Bodhi. “Sorry if I caused you trouble last night, I really do love you.”

“I know you do. That’s why I’m not going to hold it over you that you wouldn’t stop talking about Jyn Erso, either.”

With a low noise, Cassian closes his eyes, only opening one to peak at Bodhi. “Did I?” he asks.

“Oh yeah, it was all very entertaining until you burned yourself and I had to carry you to bed.”

“Listen,” Cassian says, standing and moving into the kitchen. The tiles are too cool beneath his feet and it makes his stomach feel weird. “I have a hard time believing that you could’ve carried me, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt if you never tell me what I said last night.”

Bodhi seems to think that over for a second before he says, “Deal.”

There’s a near empty box of cornflakes in the cabinet. It’s enough, so he pours some into one of the bowls that matches their plates. He feels a little foggy as he pours the milk, and he daydreams, unblinking, at Bodhi, who’s gone back to writing notes.

Last night is a blur of half memories, but it still spreads a certain warmth through his chest at the bits and pieces that he knows happened. He stirs up his cornflakes with his spoon so that they’re evenly covered in milk, he blinks away the feeling that settles behind his eyes, and sits down at the table.

When he looks up, it’s to Bodhi watching him carefully. The window above the sink outlines him in a certain kind of light. November always means something different. Colder, he supposes, less vibrant. It’s a quiet shifting into a quieter; everything becomes muted and soft. That’s how he feels right now. Muted. Soft.

“What?” he asks.

“You really don’t want to know?”

Cassian shrugs. “I was drunk,” he says around a mouthful of cereal. “It couldn’t have been good.”

Bodhi raises his brow and shifts the papers in his hands. He looks back down, and Cassian leans forward to see his textbook. _Readings in Medieval Philosophy_.

“What happened to you last night?” Cassian asks. “I lost you like, ten minutes after we arrived.”

Bodhi makes a face. “I ate almost an entire vegetable pizza and made out with someone in a watermelon costume for an hour. I can’t decide if I should be proud or not.”

“No...no, that sounds like a good night,” Cassian says, and he laughs, trying to imagine that.

“See, that alone makes me think it wasn’t.” Bodhi’s mouth sits in a slight grimace, and his hair is loose this morning, falling down to his shoulders. He looks sleep rumpled and out of place.

Cassian laughs a little louder this time. “Did you at least enjoy it?”

He’s slow to nod but then he does, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Yeah, I did.”

“Good,” Cassian says, and he fishes around the milk for the last of his cornflakes that have gone soggy. Scooping them into his mouth, he leaves Bodhi to get back to his work while he cleans up the rest of the sink. The frying pan has been left to soak overnight, but there’s still caked on egg at the bottom of it.

“Hey Cass?” Bodhi says quietly.

Cassian turns off the sink. “Yeah?”

“When it comes to Jyn,” he says, and he hesitates, so Cassian faces him fully. “Just be careful, okay?”

“Why?” Cassian asks. The word comes out without his permission, like his mouth knew what to say before his brain could catch up. He draws closer to the table.

Bodhi sighs with his whole body, like he absolutely hates that he has to say this at all. “Something happened with her dad a few years back. She...changed, I guess. She’s been different. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

 _What happened_ ? he wants to ask. _Why did she change?_

But he knows these aren’t questions for Bodhi, and the answers don’t belong to either of them. It’s a thought that nudges its way into the back of Cassian’s mind, something that doesn’t sit quite right.

“Um,” he says, and tries to form an answer in his head that would make sense. “Okay.”

Bodhi closes his book and turns his body so that he’s facing Cassian, sitting sideways in his chair. “Listen, I’m not saying you should stay away from her, I just want you to be careful.”

“Okay,” he repeats. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know if I’ll even see her again.”

“You will,” Bodhi answers with a snort. “Trust me, you will.”

Cassian thinks back to how Jyn talked about living in such a small town, how everyone knows everyone, and he thinks yeah, he probably will see her again. At least, he knows he wants to. He knows that he wants to meet her again when they’re both sober and see if that connection they had was real.

If any of it was real.

\--

But if Cassian goes back to the drugstore later that night, well it’s not because of her.

(She’s not there, anyway.)

\--

There’s something about the way the classroom sits in the dark, the way that the projector in the front of the room beams its light over everyone’s hands and noses and makes their eyes look shiny. There’s something about pushing desks together and scribbling half legible words into a notebook--words from a professor who you’re putting your trust into, in a class you only need because it’s a college requirement.

There’s something about the way the clock moves slower each time you dare a glance towards it, something about the way the clicking of a pen can disrupt your focus, or the way that the doodles in the margins of your notebook get bigger every day.

Yeah, there’s something about that.

Cassian and Baze have their heads bent together, flipping through the textbook for statistics for their assignment. It’s due at the end of the semester, but Professor Krennic has them work on it at the end of each class, apparently hoping to dissuade students from waiting until the last minute.

And honestly, Cassian appreciates it. Knowing himself, he would do it the night before it’s due, and that would never be fair to Baze.

Class is technically over, so they pull their desks apart and rearrange them back into neat lines. Cassian is pushing his notebook into his backpack when Baze asks, “Are you busy this afternoon?”

He looks up, and he only has to think for a moment. “No, why?”

“I’d rather work on this outside of class, if you’re willing.”

“Yeah--” and Professor Krennic turns on the lights without warning. It’s too bright for a moment, Cassian has to blink against the sudden intrusion, but then he can see Baze more clearly. His long hair falls loosely over his oversized coat. Cassian thinks Baze could be much older than him, but he can’t be sure. The hint of gray in his beard is one indicator, but his youthful features say otherwise.

“Do you want to come over mine?” Baze asks, shoving a pen in his pocket. “We’ve known each other too long for you to not have met Chirrut.”

“Chirrut?”

And Baze breaks into a grin like he can’t help it. “I do not have the words to describe him to you.”

“Okay,” Cassian says, feeling a little soft at the expression on his face. “Did you need a ride?”

Baze nods his head, like it’s obvious. “Why do you think I asked?”

\--

It’s late afternoon, and there’s enough leaves missing that the sun blinks through the empty branches, low and orange in the pale sky. Beside him, Baze keeps flicking through the radio stations, not staying on a single one for more than a full song.

It’s a strange experience. Between Baze giving him directions and half songs playing, he’s off balance, just waiting for the radio to change and for Baze to say, “Turn now!”

So it’s a relief when he tells Cassian to pull into the driveway of a one storey house. There’s rows of flowers planted in the front beds on either side of a dark blue door, and the whole house is cedar shake, natural and aging more in certain spots than in others. There’s ivy crawling up the side and it settles something in Cassian’s stomach when he sees it.

He follows Baze through the front door. When they walk in the lights are on, and it’s like he’s stepped into his grandparents house. There’s wood paneling on the lower half of the walls, and the upper half is dark green. There’s trinkets and figurines on flat surfaces, colorful and lively and not at all what Cassian would expect, knowing Baze.

There’s also a man sitting on the couch. His head tilts, but his milky blue eyes stay looking straight ahead when he hears them come in.

“You’re just in time, Family Feud is about to start,” he says.

Cassian glances at Baze, who rolls his eyes. “I brought a friend over. Chirrut, this is Cassian. Cassian, this is Chirrut”  

“Hello,” Cassian says softly, and Chirrut smiles a little, waving his hand in their general direction.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “We get competitive when it comes to Family Feud, but you’re more than welcome to join.”

“ _You_ get competitive when it comes to Family Feud,” Baze says, and he laughs to himself before clapping a hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “And we’ve got homework to do. Come on, we’ll get more done in the kitchen.”

Cassian follows Baze through the door on the other side of the living room. All the lights are on, and it makes the whole kitchen glow in a way that--

“Well, you look familiar.”

Cassian’s head snaps towards the voice. His stomach automatically drops into itself, and he takes a small breath when he sees Jyn standing next to the refrigerator. She has two glasses of water in her hands and there’s a small smile on her lips.

What’s missing: a ladybug costume, that slightly dazed expression, and her cheeks and nose, red from the cold.

What’s new: the way her eyes squint at him, a navy sweater that’s a little too long on the sleeves, her slightly chapped lips.

He suddenly needs to know everything that he said the other night.

“You look different,” is what he says now, and he has to swallow down the desire to close his eyes in shame. “You know, you were a very convincing ladybug.”

Jyn laughs lightly, and her eyes stay still on his even as she shakes her head a little bit. “Oh yeah, I’m a regular shapeshifter. Just be glad I wasn’t in my zombie costume, it would’ve scared you. Baby.”

“I take it no introductions are needed here?” Baze asks, and Cassian hesitates to look away from her, like she’ll disappear the moment he does.

“No,” she answers. “No, dear Cassian and I go way back. I’d stay and chat, but it looks like you’ve got some work to do and if I make Chirrut pause the show he might cheat.”

Cassian nods at her when she passes, and she lifts one of the glasses at him before she leaves the room.

And if that’s not a feeling he’s come to hate...

\--

Cassian and Baze _do_ work, they just don’t get a lot done.

They compile the necessary information for their presentation before they eventually move into the living room. There's two couches, and Baze automatically settles in next to Chirrut, so Cassian is left to sit next to Jyn on the other one.

The whole scene makes it hard to focus on the television: Chirrut and Baze casually bicker over the contestants, and Jyn holds a pillow in her lap, clutching it a little tighter every time she declares her answer. The corners of her eyes crinkle when she gets into it with Chirrut about whether or not 100 people is enough for a proper survey.

All this, and the Family Feud theme song playing incessantly in the back of his mind.

It's during a commercial break that Chirrut turns his head in Cassian's direction and asks, "Do you practice yoga?"  

“Don’t mind him,” Baze says before Cassian can answer. “He teaches at the studio uptown, and he’s always looking for more people to join.”

Cassian watches the two of them for a moment before saying, “I can’t say that I’ve ever considered it before.”

“It’s tougher than you’d think.” Jyn supplies, and she’s still staring at the television, where there’s an ad for one of those devices that will answer you if you talk to it. The lights are still on in the kitchen, but there’s only one lamp in here, so it’s mostly the tv that ignites the room in shades of light that change too quickly as it gets darker outside.

“You do yoga?” he asks.

“Very well, actually,” Chirrut answers for her. “Jyn has excellent control over her breath.”

She preens, turning her head to look at him. “Hear that? Excellent breath control.”

Cassian meets her eyes, and he’s trying very hard not to picture that when the commercial ends. The Family Feud theme song plays once again, the four of them turn their attention back to the tv, and all conversation is lost to the sound of fast money.

\--

“Any chance you could give me a ride home?” Jyn asks after the show has ended. Cassian feels like he looks at her too long, his mind takes too much time to make the right connections.

“Sure,” he says, fishing his keys from his pocket, keeping his eyes on her. “Yeah, that’s not a problem.”

“Great,” she says. “I’ll grab my coat.”

She leaves the room and Cassian feels exposed. Both Baze and Chirrut have knowing expressions on their faces, but neither of them say anything. Cassian presses his lips together, staring at the wood paneling until Jyn returns with a, “Let’s go.”

They say goodbye and walk out together. It’s dark but the front lights are on and Cassian thinks about the other night, the way her skin glowed standing next to the greenhouse. He glances towards her, she looks up with a small grin playing on her lips and the light moves like water over her features.  

And it’s funny, because she’s a half step behind him but he still feels like he’s following her.

“Fancy car,” she says, and he scrunches his nose, because it’s a junky little thing, but it was his mom’s, so he has a certain affection for it.

“Make fun of it all you want,” he says. “I’m half convinced that no one in this town actually owns a car.”

She makes a small, half-laugh sound, but they part to get in the car. He looks up after putting on his seatbelt and she’s looking back, and there’s that familiar itch for a cigarette. There’s the desire to quiet this feeling that burns without explanation. She looks at him and he feels like he’s alive in a different way, something new and obscure.

“You’re right, you know,” she says, and it’s all Cassian can do to look down to put the keys in the ignition.

“What’s that?” he asks, glancing at her when he turns his head to back down the drive.

The streets and the trees and the sky all feel like the same color, like they would be if it weren’t for the streetlamps and the headlights on his car. It would all blend together, and she says, “It doesn’t make sense to have a car here. Everything’s within walking distance, and there’s a train station if you want to get away. If you really need to drive somewhere, there’s always people like you around.”

“People like me?”

“Yeah,” she says, and the car slows to a stop at an intersection. Red light paints over her profile, blurs the edges, and makes her softer. “You know, you city slickers with your easily accessible modes of transportation.”

He laughs aloud, and green light washes over the two of them. “You don’t actually know anything about me, do you?”

The car moves forward into the intersection, but from the corner of his eye he can see her shake her head a little bit. “I know all about you,” she says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Of course,” she answers easily, like this is something familiar. And in a way it is, he supposes, in a way it’s like they never parted the other night. “I know that you’re studying accounting.”

“Okay,” he says, drawing the word out.

“And that Bodhi is your roommate.”

“Better.”

“And that you were very drunk at that party,” she says. “It was cute.”

He has his foot on the break as they come to a stop sign, and his mind blanks out for a moment. He looks at her then, and she’s grinning, but there’s something off about it, something that reminds him of Bodhi yesterday morning--

_Just be careful, okay?_

“I was,” he says, taking his foot off of the break. “And it wasn’t cute. I burned myself when I got home.”

To emphasize his point, he lifts up his left hand and angles it towards her.

“Poor baby,” she says, but when he looks over she can’t seem to keep pouting. It merges into a smile, she bites her bottom lip, and it’s like this: her green eyes look so dark in this lighting, but the streetlights rush over her brows and her cheekbones and her teeth, and she keeps looking at him.

He looks away.

“Come on then,” she says. “Tell me about yourself.”

He raises a brow. “What?”

“You’re from the _outside_ ,” she says, and her voice is a touch dramatic. “Which automatically makes you more interesting than 95% of Whitebridge. And obviously the things I know about you do not paint the whole picture. So go on, tell me about yourself.”

“You can’t want the full biography. First, it’ll bore you, and second, I won’t have anything to keep you interested anymore. The mystery needs to stay alive.”

She sits up a little more fully, pulling on the seatbelt to face him. “Then how about a brief history? 500 words or less. I’ll start counting.”

“Okay,” Cassian gives in, laughing to himself, because isn’t this ridiculous? How has he found himself here again?

“A brief history of Cassian Andor,” he starts. “I was born in Montpelier, and I grew up just outside of the city. I guess I had the typical life, you know, mom, dad, younger sister. I like New England, and I didn't want to move too far from home so I went to college right there, but..” he pauses, scrunching his nose, ”it didn't work out. I heard about Whitebridge, applied to transfer this semester, and now here I am.”

“Here you are,” she says absently. “What was wrong with Montpelier?”

The question churns his stomach, and he takes a moment to think by leaning forward, making sure it’s safe to take a left hand turn. “ _That_ is a story for another time. I told you, I have to remain mysterious.”

She sighs. “You’ve caught me. I don’t know how I’ll be able to rest with all the wondering I’ll do about you. I swear, I’ll go home and think about the young Mr. Andor, and what mysterious prospects he brings to a small town like this. I’ll stay up late and wonder what dark secrets you’re hiding, what you possibly could’ve done to wind up here.”

“You’re funny.”

“I think I am.”

“Well what about you, then?” he asks. “All I know about you is that you hate this town, you like yoga, and apparently you spend your free time on Pinterest.”

She laughs aloud, pulling the seatbelt away from her for a moment to readjust it. “There’s nothing wrong with Pinterest, if that’s what you’re implying--”

“It wasn’t.”

“ _Sure_ ,” she says. “And I guess it’s not so much that I hate Whitebridge, but that I hate how I feel here. Does that make sense? It’s like, I can feel the weight of time, and if I don’t get out soon I’ll stay stagnant for the rest of my life. It’s boring and...and lifeless. Sure, it has its small town charms, and I’d be lying if I said I hated everyone because there’s people like Baze and Chirrut, and I love them. Sometimes I think _maybe it’s not so bad_ , but I’ve experienced it. I’ve lived here my whole life and I don’t want to be trapped here for the rest of it.”

Cassian takes a moment to think about it, hitting his turn signal and leaning back to look at her. They’re at a stop sign, and there’s no one else around. There aren’t any other cars on the road and it’s just them, the single streetlamp on the other side of the car, and the headlights staring straight ahead.

It’s just the blue shadows sinking into something darker, only half lit and quiet. It’s still relatively early in the night, the moon has yet to rise, and Cassian wants to pull over because he knows they’re close to her house and he doesn’t want to stop talking.

So he keeps the car idling, and the turn signal is the only sound between them before he says, “Wouldn’t that happen anywhere, though? You get so familiar with a place that it becomes boring.”

“People say that, but how could it be true? Take any city, like Boston or New York, and there’s thousands of places to go. There’s always someone new to meet or something new to see or do; it’s always changing and evolving, not like it is in Whitebridge. I knew you weren’t from here mere seconds after seeing you in that kitchen, that shouldn’t be the case.”

“But I think that newness would get old, too,” he counters. “Being stagnant is just life, you know? Being bored is being a human being. You do what you can to make life interesting, but I don’t think there’s a way to fully escape it. Take the other night, for example. Were you bored when we were in that greenhouse?”

She squints her eyes slightly, and the edges of her lips tilt into a smile. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Are you bored right now?”

He watches her breathe out, the sound turns into a smile, and her teeth sit neatly together where they’re exposed. He’s been here before. He’s been here before, but he thinks he likes it better this time.

“No,” she says pointedly.

Cassian nods absently, finally putting his foot on the gas and turning right. “Good,” he says, and they drive in the quiet--the low hum of the engine and the heating steadily blowing air over them--for a few streets until he has to confirm which one is hers. Neither of them say anything while he slows down, looking for a small white house with a yellow door that sits blurry in his memory.

And sure enough, it exists. Number 19. He pulls into the driveway and puts the car in park, turning his head towards her, where she’s already watching him with a thoughtful expression.

“I’m not bored right now because of you,” she says, and she waits a long moment, as though that was all she needed to make her point. “But you’re only here for school, and you’re going to leave sometime.”

Cassian feels that familiar ping of anxiety in his chest. “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, Jyn.”

She shakes her head. “No, I know. My point is that I have to find what’s going to make my life feel interesting, and I don’t think that the answer is in Whitebridge.”

“Okay,” he relents, because he’s not entirely sure what they’re arguing about, or if they’re really arguing at all. “I’m not going say that it is. I’m just...glad that you’re here now.”

“You charmer,” she says, and she rolls her eyes before she puts her hand on the door handle, and it’s such a small thing, but it reminds him of Bodhi. “Thanks for driving me home.”

He smiles, feeling strangely defeated. “Anytime.”

Jyn’s small frame steps in front of the headlights, and for a blinding moment she’s caught pulling her coat tight around her stomach, moving quickly in the cold. She jogs up the front walk before pausing at the doorway. Cassian frowns as she turns back towards the car, and he rolls down his window as she approaches.  

“Hey,” she says, and she rests her forearms in the empty space where the window was. She’s too close, it’s hard not to lean forward. “I usually take my break at one on weekdays, if you’re around you should come hang out sometime.”

He smiles, and it’s cold enough that their breaths puff out in front of them, filling the space in between. “I might have to, I know how bored you get without me.”

“Bye,” she says firmly, but she shakes her head before leaning into the car and kissing his cheek. It’s just a quick, soft brush of her lips against his skin, but his heart drops in his chest and he blinks heavily, meeting her eyes as she draws away from him.

And she gives him this...knowing look, but he doesn’t know what that means. He wants to ask if they’re on the same page, if they’re both feeling the same thing, but he can’t make his mouth work out the words. He doesn’t know if she’s interested in him, or if this is what Bodhi was talking about when he said to be careful.

As it is, he watches her disappear into the house. The yellow door swings shut behind her.

\--

The drive home takes mere minutes, but it feels like much longer than that.

Cassian’s mind races with repeated fragments of their conversation, and the lines of the streets stretch out too far ahead of him. It makes him feel heavy, it makes him miss her, in some complicated, half-understood way.

When he gets home he stays in the car for a long, long moment, pressing his palms over his eyes and grounding himself. He tries to white out the noise of his head but it’s hard to do, so he trudges his way up the stairs and into his and Bodhi’s apartment.

The tv is on, but Bodhi is curled up on the couch, his head tipped low as he reads a book. All it takes is one look at him for Cassian to collapse next to him. Or rather, half on top of him. Bodhi makes a small noise of protest before he lifts a hand to card through Cassian’s hair.

“Long day?” he asks.

Cassian nods, exhaling a deep breath. He’s thankful that Bodhi doesn’t question him about it. They both stay where they are, and Cassian watches the tv blink through different images until he feels tired enough to go to bed.


	3. A Warm Winter Coat

Fluorescent lights are a strange concept during the day.

It’s jarring, actually, to come inside from the not-bright-but-still-there November sunshine into a store without any windows, just aisles and aisles of fluorescent lights. It makes Cassian feel like he’s entered another time zone or tripped onto a movie set, there’s something unreal enough about it that keeps his distracted hands steady in his coat pockets.

It’s an old coat and it’s itchy, but it’s cold outside and it’s been two days since Jyn asked him to visit her on her break. So here he is, in a drugstore with artificial lights and a heavy wool coat, scanning the line of cash registers for a girl that’s been in his life for less than a week, but has somehow wormed her way into the majority of his thoughts.

Cassian finally spots her at the end of the makeup aisle. She’s kneeling on the grey carpeted floor with a blue smock on, in her hand is a price gun, and she appears to be mindlessly stacking little bottles of flesh toned makeup under the Maybelline sign.

It’s interesting, for a moment, to be unengaged with her but to see what she’s like. How she moves, how she bites her bottom lip in concentration, the way she makes a small, frustrated sound when one of the price stickers gets caught in the gun.

“Well, you look familiar,” he says, approaching her. She shakes her head to one side, and her bangs fall free from where they were brushing over her eyes. When she looks up she smiles like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and he feels it, he does, he knows exactly how that smile feels.

“Hey, that’s my line,” she says, and she stands up, smoothing out the front of her smock. It’s cute because it’s a little too big on her, and they’re standing close enough that she has to tilt her head back a little to look at him. All he sees is the reflection of the fluorescent lights in her green eyes and the moment feels bigger than it is.

“Well I’ve said it, haven’t I?” he says. “So it’s our line now.”

She pouts, stepping back to put the price gun down. “Stop trying to be cute.” Her voice is sulky as she pushes the boxes of product aside with her foot.

“Look who’s talking,” he says, and he watches the way her face changes incrementally, trying to figure out if it’s okay to go there. “I like the uniform.”

Jyn glances down before exhaling a small laugh. “Right,” she says. “It’s quite glamorous, isn’t it? I think I’d quit if it weren’t for these lovely little outfits.”

“They must really improve job performance.”

“Absolutely. Nothing says _let me help you find overpriced cough medicine_ like a blue apron.”

“And what does your name tag say?” he asks.

“Jane,” she says, holding out the name tag so she can see it. “It’s another reason to love the job. Honestly, I’m just going with it.”

Cassian smiles to himself, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the drugstore. There aren’t many people in here, probably typical for a Thursday afternoon. The lights are still humming above them, and the automatic door squeaks when it opens. “So this is it then? The famous job that’s going to get you out of here?”

“Don’t mock it, it will.”

“I wasn’t mocking it, I think it’s great.” He looks to the rest of the store. “Are you going to show me around?”

She rolls her eyes but motions for him to follow her down the aisle towards the back of the store. “You know, I’m technically on my break right now; yet I’m choosing to stay here with you.”

“And I’m eternally grateful for it. What do you usually do?”

She shrugs. “Read. Eat. Ignore my coworkers.”

They walk along the back wall of the store, where the pharmacy counter sits with a few sad looking chairs next to it. He follows her, his eyes moving between the aisles and then back to her, watching her hair brush along her shoulders.

“So this is it,” she says. “Anything you could possibly need in eight thousand square feet.”

She gestures to the aisle next to them and lets her hand fall with a small sound against her leg. She smiles at him, but there’s something defeated about it, like she’s accepted that this is her life and that it’s not going to change despite her determination to leave. It opens a hollow feeling in Cassian’s stomach, seeing that expression on her face. It makes him feel a certain emptiness that rings heavily into the lonely aisles of the store.

“Anything I need?” he questions.

“Anything,” she repeats. “Although I’m guessing all you really need is a pack of cigarettes and index cards.”  
Cassian laughs. “Why index cards?”

“You educated folk and your index cards,” she says, and he follows her down one of the aisles, turning right at the end and down another. It’s funny how she’s so small but her presence is so large. She walks with slight determination in every step, guiding him confidently to the school supplies. “It’s like college is hard or something.”

She grabs a 500 pack of neon pink, yellow, and orange index cards and holds it out for him to take.

“These won’t burn my eyes when I’m studying, will they?” he asks.

She laughs before she makes a thoughtful face, as though she’s seriously considering the question. “That would be interesting, wouldn’t it?”

“Of course,” Cassian grabs the pack of cards with a defeated sigh. He gestures behind him. “Anything else?”

“You forgot the cigarettes.”

“You don’t like cigarettes.”

That’s when her face turns grim, like she’s thought of the worst thing in the world and though she tries, she can’t fully hide the way it makes her expression go sour. Like she’s pissed off or checking out all together. It’s something in between, something Cassian can’t quite place. “No,” she says, “no not at all, but I know where they are.”

Cassian doesn’t know what to say to that. He feels colder, their usual spark and energy burns low and dull and he looks down at the index cards in his hand. “Nah, forget it. Could you ring these up for me? I want to see you in action.”

She raises a brow but takes the cards back from his hand and gestures towards the cash registers at the front of the store, lonely and empty under the fluorescent lights.

“Get ready,” she says, “this should be thrilling.”

He walks behind her, but she turns her head and smiles at him, and any tension there dissipates. Something finds its way back to normal and just like that, the sinking feeling in Cassian’s chest dislodges and fades into an echo of what it was.

It turns out, though, that buying the index cards isn’t exciting, but it’s kind of funny being on the other side of the counter and watching her work the computer. He laughs a little, pulling out his wallet and handing her his neatly pressed cash, but she just rolls her eyes and the register drawer clinks open with a _bang_.

She puts the cards in a small bag but doesn’t hand it to him right away, instead she looks down at it in her hands, pausing for a moment before she glances up at him. “What are you doing after this?” she asks.

He checks the time on his phone. “I’m heading to class, actually. Starts in like fifteen minutes.”

“Do you want some company?” she asks. “I mean, technically I haven’t taken my break yet and I kinda want to get out of here.”

“Sure,” he says, and he watches her lift the blue smock over head, his eyes dare to flick down to where her shirt rides up, exposing a line of pale skin. He glances away quickly when she pushes her hair out of her eyes and turns her attention back to him, his heart picking up embarrassingly.

“Come on,” she says.

She comes around the side of the counter, coat in hand, and she waves goodbye to a guy with a nametag that says _Luke_ , who he’s pretty sure is related to Leia but he can’t fully remember, he’s still working on knowing who’s who in town. Jyn hands him the bag and they walk out of the store together, from fluorescent lights to weak, watery sunlight streaming through the half-filled trees; the branches and yellow brown leaves shake and scatter the light.

The branches and yellow brown leaves make Cassian feel a little warmer, if that’s possible.

“So I have a question for you,” Jyn asks, and they walk closely without really thinking about it. They walk closely and Cassian only notices when he looks over at her and realizes that their shoulders brush slightly, their elbows push against each other only slightly uncomfortably with how they both have their hands shoved in their coat pockets.

He bites down a smile. “What?” he asks.

“If we were living in a game, you know, like the Sims or something, would you want to know? Or do you think you’d be better off unaware?”

Cassian laughs, and he can’t help it, he knocks his shoulder purposefully against hers. “That’s not what I was expecting.”

“Do you ever get what you’re expecting with me?”

“No,” he answers automatically. It’s true, though, she’s always something else. Every time he thinks he understands her, she does something different that proves otherwise. “And to answer your question, I don’t think I’d want to know. It wouldn’t make enough of a difference in my life to justify it, I’d just be upset that nothing was real or in my control. The illusion is nice.”

She hums to herself, and Cassian isn’t going to even try and guess what that means. “I actually agree with you,” she says.

“Is that such a surprise?”

“No, but it’s interesting. Life is kind of vague and unsatisfying, but to know that it’s completely pointless would be too much. I’d never be motivated to do anything.”

He thinks about that for a long moment, and they cross the street behind the building they just cut around. It’s between classes so most people are out and switching between buildings before two o’clock. “But what motivates you now?” he asks.

She shrugs, and he can feel it against his shoulder. He bites his lip to stop himself from smiling.

“Being self sufficient, I suppose. You know me, I just want to travel, and see things and do things that I can’t do here.”

Cassian hesitates. “Is that all you want?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I think I’m scared that once I get out of here I’ll be disappointed. Like, I’m working so hard for _one_ goal, and what if I get there and realize that it’s not what I really wanted, or that it won’t make me happy. Does that make sense?”

“I think that’s really honest,” Cassian says, and her gaze tilts up towards his, and just like that, proximity is a real concern. He watches her eyes and he begs himself not to turn them towards her lips. He focuses on the conversation instead, turning his attention back to the concrete path ahead of them that cuts across the main quad.

“I don’t think that traveling, necessarily, could disappoint you,” he continues. “Not that I’ve traveled much, myself. But I think that what gets you there is important. I mean, you want to see the world, you go see the world, and you get to experience things that you could never experience here and that’s great. That couldn’t be disappointing, because what are you really expecting? But if you travel because you think it’ll fill some void in your life, then yeah. Maybe.”

She hums again and doesn’t answer until they’re nearly at his building. “Where would you go?” she asks. “If someone offered to completely pay for you to go anywhere in the world, what’s the first place you’d think of?”

Cassian _wants_ to answer the first place he thinks of, but he has to remind himself that isn’t really what she meant. “That’s a hard question,” he says, buying himself a little time. “I hate feeling like a tourist, so probably not any of the obvious choices. I don’t know, where would you go?”

She pauses as he holds the door open for her. She glares at him and he follows behind her, from the sun like water to warm yellow lights and dry air. “I just want you to know I’m disappointed in that answer. And for your information, I would go to New York.”

“You’ve mentioned New York before” he says, recalling a conversation in a slow moving car, all dark spaces and light that rushed over them only to fall away again. He nods to their right. “Up these stairs.”

They fall into step, there’s a few people coming down but the staircase is wide enough that they can still walk side by side. She breathes out a slow breath. “It just seems like a good place to start. It’s still the US, so you don’t have to exchange your money, it’s close enough to home that you don’t have to dread travelling there, and I think there’s a certain vibrancy to it that I’ve never experienced before. I’d like to see what it’s like.”

She pauses for a moment. “Have you ever been?”

“No, I haven’t,” he answers, and he slows to a stop next to the door of his classroom. Jyn follows, a half step behind, until they face each other while the door swings open and closed behind them, all his classmates going to class.

Jyn seems to accept that answer, glancing behind her at the door before looking up at him. “And what class is this?”

“Accounting,” he says, and he shrugs. “It’s not the best, but it’s not the worst, either.”

She nods, and then she smiles at him, genuine and soft. “Listen, my friend got me two tickets to a local band that’s playing a few towns over tomorrow night, I thought you might want to come with me?”

It takes Cassian a half second to let that run through his mind. Is she asking him as friend or as a date? And why can’t he open his mouth to clarify? He doesn’t want to push or scare her off, but at the same time he doesn't like the ambiguity of it. He bites his lip for a second before he considers a third reason. “You’re not just asking because I have a car, are you?”

He keeps his voice light enough so that it’s meant as a joke, but she must pick up on some serious side of it because she rolls her eyes.  
  
“I was actually thinking we could take the train, but you know, there’s that, too.”

“Okay,” he agrees, and he tilts his head slightly closer to hers for some reason, doesn’t even understand the draw between them. “What time?”

“Here,” she says, and she reaches into her back pocket for her phone. She hands it to him, open to add a new contact, which he inputs quickly because he does, actually, have to go to class in a minute, judging by the time on her phone.

He hands it back to her, and they’re standing under fluorescent lights again, different fluorescent lights, but they’re all the same, aren’t they? They stand under the lights and it washes her out, but it makes her eyes seem lighter, more of a pale green and it’s beautiful, it really is. He’s so drawn to her, so absolutely taken with the way she speaks, the way her eyes watch him, how pretty her features are, sitting together like that.

With some effort, he forces himself to look at the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he says.

She nods. “Thanks for coming to see me.”

And there’s that look again, the one she gives him when they’re about to part and Cassian has to wonder how many times he can say goodbye without kissing her.

Instead, he opens his arms and she comes in easily for a hug, fitting right under his chin. He rests his mouth against her hair but he doesn’t kiss her. Somehow, it feels more intimate like this. Somehow, it’s the most comforted Cassian’s felt in a while. They stay like that for a moment before pulling apart, and there’s a happy grin on her lips as she gives him a small wave goodbye.

Once again, he has to watch her walk away.

It’s so strange to go into the classroom, as though his world hadn’t just shifted and changed back and forth between this space occupied by Jyn, and the other occupied by school and responsibility.

There has to be less than twenty students in the class, and he walks up the far row of desks to sit in his usual seat next to Leia. When he glances over at her she’s got a slight smirk on her lips and she raises a brow.

“So you and Jyn, huh?” she suggests.

Cassian rolls her eyes. “So you and Han, huh?” he mimics.

“You know it’s not like that with us.”

He looks at her like _do you get my point now_? But she just shrugs and says, “When did you guys meet?”

“Halloween, shortly after you abandoned me.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, but then the professor walks into the room. Most of the class goes quiet but some carry on conversations as he moves towards his desk at the front and takes off his coat. Cassian uses the distraction to focus his attention forward, pulling a notebook out of his backpack and onto his desk.

When he glances over, Leia’s watching him like she can see straight through him. He refuses to allow it to unnerve him, writing the date down on the top of the page, and his phone buzzes once in his pocket.

He looks over to make sure the professor is still busy before he fishes his phone out.

**From: Unknown Number  
** _It’s Jyn._

And if he’s smiling at that text, well, that’s embarrassing. He locks his phone and puts it away, daring one more look at Leia.

“This isn’t over,” she mouths at him.

And yeah, he kinda hopes so.

-

The late afternoon sun angles low into Cassian’s windshield as he drives home. The streets are long and relatively empty, and he can’t help it, his mind drifts in and out of half conversations and missed opportunities. He thinks about Jyn and he thinks about walking side by side in the cold, the way that their coat-covered shoulders knocked against each other. He thinks about her half shadowed body next to his in the car, with street lights pushing over their faces and drawing away, leaving them in the dark. In the dark, in the light, all the words passed between them. These things sit together in his mind, and he knows there’s more to come.  

_I thought you might want to come with me._

There’s a certain warmth that rushes through his chest at the thought. And what’s so wrong about that? Jyn is beautiful and funny and they get along so well. He doesn’t know why he’s holding back, why he won’t make a move when she’s the one offering to play the game.

But is she?

Nothing has been romantic between them aside from a parting kiss on the cheek. They haven’t even talked about relationships or what they want, and she hasn’t offered anything physically other than her presence. He thinks about the way she looks at him and it doesn’t help, he doesn’t know what he sees when she watches him a half second too long. What is she studying? What does she find in him and what makes her stay?

He thinks about Bodhi saying _be careful_ and he wants to ask _what’s changed_ and how could she be so different now?  

These thoughts collide and jumble together in his head as he blinks away the sunlight and walks up the front steps to their apartment. It’s not until he’s flipping through his keys for the right one that he hears a soft sound and glances down.

There’s a small grey cat behind him but it doesn’t stay there for long. He stands there, relatively helpless, as the cat presses up against his leg, nuzzling the side of its face against the front of his jeans.

“Hello,” he says, and the cat pauses, sits down--half on his foot, half on the well worn concrete step--and looks up at him with wide blue eyes. Cassian slowly extracts his foot from underneath the small weight on top of it. The cat makes a low sound, but moves to his other side.

It takes him a minute to realize he’s going to have to pick up the cat if he wants to get inside without accidentally letting it in. He winces a little as he bends down, for whatever reason he half expects it to leap at him and claw his face off, but the little thing just blinks up at him and he gets a hand under its belly and lifts it off of his foot.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says to it, and it goes easily against his chest as he unlocks the front door.

However, putting it down seems to be the real problem.

Once he’s inside, he tries to set it back on the concrete step, but the cat is having none of that. It squirms and helicopters and after a long effort to make it stay on the ground it seems to have some sort of understanding. Eventually it leaps down onto the step, but as soon as Cassian goes to close the door, the cat is sitting in the opening, blinking up at him with those stupidly adorable wide eyes.

Reminds him of someone else, actually.

Cassian hums to himself, glancing behind him at the stairs that lead up to their apartment and back down at the cat. It meows quietly, just a quiet little sound, and he’s helpless to pick it up again. He figures that if it belongs to someone he could make it easier for them to find it, and he’s not going to leave it alone if it’s hungry or thirsty.

It makes a (what Cassian’s translates as) happy sound, and with his free hand he lets them into his and Bodhi’s apartment.

Bodhi, who’s currently in his usual position, at the kitchen table with an open textbook and notebook. Music softly plays from his phone next to him, but he looks up at the sound of the door opening, and his eyes immediately move from Cassian to the cat in his hand.

“What is that?” he asks.

Cassian’s already heading into the kitchen. “We have a cat. For now.”

He hears the chair push against the table as he fishes out a shallow dish. Still cradling the cat, he fills it with water. “Okay, I have a lot of questions, so I think starting at the beginning would be good, yeah?” Bodhi asks, leaning against the refrigerator.

Cassian glances up at him through his hair that’s fallen in his eyes. He sits next to the cat on the floor, nudging the dish close to it. Those wide blue eyes watch him for a moment before it hesitantly sniffs the dish.

Deeming it safe, the cat happily licks at the water and Cassian smiles at it and then back up at Bodhi. “It just showed up at the front door, it wouldn’t let me go inside without it.”

“‘It?’” Bodhi questions. “You didn’t check to see if it’s a boy or girl?”

Cassian tilts his head, taking a small peek. “Okay, _he_ showed up at the front door. I don’t think he’s a stray, though, I figured we could try and see if anyone’s missing a cat.”

“That makes sense,” Bodhi says, nodding, and he sits down next to Cassian. They stay like that for a while, just watching him drink his water.

“You aren’t allergic, are you?” he asks Bodhi eventually, as the cat decides he’s had enough water and backs up and away from the dish.

“No,” Bodhi says, and the cat comes closer to him, sniffing at Bodhi’s knee and glancing back at Cassian, almost like he’s checking to see if he’s still there. “He seems to like you.”

Cassian smiles at the cat, who comes closer. “I know, I’m already attached. Do you think we should give him a name? I feel bad just referring to him as _cat_.”

Bodhi makes a cute little clicking noise with his mouth and the cat looks up at him immediately, wiggling its tail in interest. “Maybe a nickname?” he offers. “We really should call to see if anyone’s lost him.”

They’re both quiet for a moment, watching the cat bat at Cassian’s hands, which move in a circle around his little furry head. “Thomas?” he suggests, and Bodhi gives him a look like _are you kidding me?_ “It was the first name that came to mind,” he defends.

“You can’t give animals people names, it’s weird,” he says, laughing to himself.

Cassian is decidedly _not_ pouting, dropping his hand only for the cat to nudge it with his head, forcing Cassian to pet him. “Well what do you suggest, then?”

“K2?”

“What?”

“It’s the second tallest mountain in the world,” he says. “I don’t know, I’m doing my geography homework and we were talking about it in class today. He’s kind of like a little mountain.”

Cassian likes the mental image even if, no, he does not look like a mountain at all. But still, K2 sits happily in his mind, and he agrees with Bodhi. It’s funny, the two of them sitting on the kitchen floor like this, with the cat between them and the slowly darkening sky. It makes the lights of their apartment brighter, it makes Bodhi look a little brighter.

He looks loose and happy, his hair sits against his shoulders and though he’s watching K2, he still looks up and smiles easily at Cassian.

It’s nice, he thinks to himself, this is a nice place to be.

-

Later that night, Cassian blinks slowly at the television. The lights are all off, and that’s probably not healthy for his eyes, but it’s late and he’s half asleep. Of course, this is when he remembers that he has Jyn’s number. It takes a few seconds in the blue and white echoes of the TV screen for him to make a decision.

He eyes K2, who’s sleeping on the other side of the couch, and pulls out his phone.

**To: Jyn Erso  
** _You’re the expert on whitebridge, would you happen to know anyone who’s missing a cat?_

Anxiously, he clicks off his phone and tries to focus back on the TV.  Maybe it wasn’t his best decision to text her this late at night. It’s past one in the morning and now he’s trying not to stare at his phone, he’s trying not to think about what she’s doing. Sleeping, most likely, but now he’s put himself out there.

Luckily, it’s only minutes later that his phone buzzes on the pillow next to him. The white light of his background ignites the room around him and he pointedly ignores how fast he reaches for it.

**From: Jyn Erso  
** _I resent that statement_  
...  
_also: did you find a cat?_

Cassian glances up at K2, still passed out on one of the sofa cushions. The light of the TV plays off of his gray hair, making him look blue where his little belly rises up and down in long, even breaths.

**To: Jyn Erso  
** _Why? It’s true. And yes._

It’s only a minute before she texts back.

**From: Jyn Erso  
** _lol good luck w that. why are you awake right now?_

Cassian laughs to himself.

**To: Jyn Erso  
** _I don’t know. Should probably go to bed tho, I’m so tired._

**From: Jyn Erso  
** _get some sleep!! I’ll see you tomorrow :)_

There’s a smile on his face as he turns his phone off, and he stays there for a long minute before dragging himself off of the couch and quietly past Bodhi’s door into his own room at the end of the hall. It’s the same smile that never really seems to leave him when he thinks about Jyn. And although he half collapses in bed, curling up in the dark of his room and listening to the quiet sounds of their apartment, he still takes a moment to spare a thought towards tomorrow. 

Yeah, he's looking forward to it. 


	4. That's a Corn Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want you all to know that I had originally planned for K2 to be a roomba.

**From: Jyn Erso  
** _Does 4:30 work for you? I can meet you at the station._

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _Jyn...it’s literally 19 degrees outside._

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _Your point?_

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _I’ll drive you there_

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _It’s a twenty minute walk, I’ll be fine_

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _Great, I’ll just look for your frozen body on the side of the road._

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _FUNNY_  
_...  
I’ll leave the tickets in my left coat pocket, that way you can still go to the concert_

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _But then who would defrost you?_

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _Literally anyone in this town. Remember??? I’m beloved._

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _Yeah, okay. I’ll be at your house around 4:15_

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _w/e_

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _You’re welcome :-)_

\--

“So, what? Are you going to treat it like a date?” Bodhi asks. He’s sitting on the couch, one hand holding his book open and the other lazily petting K2’s back. It’s quite the picture. The late afternoon sun angles in through the transparent curtains, filtering the light in muted shades of the day, ending. Just the kitchen lights are on, and they cast the room in a dull, half-there glow.

Cassian sighs, shrugging on his coat and feeling for the gloves in his pockets. “That would be presumptuous, right?”

Bodhi seems to take a second to think about it, his hand pauses where he’s smoothing it over K2’s back. His hair’s pulled into a loose braid and he looks different like this, with his facial hair growing out, darker and thicker than he usually has it.

K2 bats at Bodhi’s leg--the closest thing he can reach--until he continues petting him.  “Do you want it to be a date?” Bodhi asks.

“Well yeah, but if she asked me as a friend I don’t want to act like a creep.”

Bodhi rolls his eyes. “And if she asked you as a date?”

Cassian checks the time. He has about five minutes before he seriously needs to leave and he doesn’t necessarily want to think about this. He doesn’t know if it’s wise to question whatever is happening between them, or if it’s better to just _go_ and see what happens. Sighing again, Cassian leans against the couch and says, “I don’t know. She doesn’t seem like she would be quiet about something like that. Bodhi, you know her, right? What do you think?”

“Yeah, I’ve known her since preschool,” he says, “but that doesn’t mean I understand the inner workings of her mind, let alone who she wants to date.”

“Helpful,” Cassian says, moving towards the counter to grab his keys. “If you’re not awake when I get back, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bodhi tilts his head back as if he’s frustrated, or maybe he’s not done with the conversation. “Okay,” he relents, “let’s get breakfast at that place that just opened in Wilmington.”

Cassian nods. “You know, I’m very suspicious that everyone is my friend purely to access my car.”

“That’s because it’s true,” he says, and his smile is blinding. “Have fun, don’t throw yourself at her. Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too.”

\--

Leaning forward in his seat, chin resting on top of the steering wheel, Cassian watches Jyn Erso exit through a cheery yellow door and jam her key into the lock as soon as she’s on the other side. He bites back a smile at the sight of her heavy, plaid wool coat and of her gloves with the fingers missing. Eight pale fingers fumble with the keys, eight pale fingers and Cassian wants to know what it would be like to lace them through his.

His chest feels smoke heavy, but his head is calm. The evening sits quietly around him as Jyn moves in front of the car, coming around the side with her head tipped down and her arms crossed over each other.

The door opens and all the cold rushes in for a moment, or maybe all the heat rushes out. It’s the same thing, isn’t it? Either way Jyn gets in the car, ducking her head under the roof, and shuts the door behind her. She looks up at him before her attention immediately turns toward the center console.

“Of course you have the heat on as high as it’ll go,” she says, and then gives him a pointed look.

He raises a brow, waiting for her to put her seatbelt on. “You’re still bitter about me driving you to the train station?”

He asks this as he backs down the driveway, checking over his shoulder, and he can see her in his peripheral. She has her elbow propped against the ledge under the car window, and her hand is tight where it meets her hair, her eyes are stuck looking straight ahead of them, unblinking or maybe unseeing, and the car curves out onto the street.

He makes sure that there’s no one else on the road and keeps his foot on the break. “Hey,” he says, “are you okay?”  

She blinks and looks over at him. Her soft, far away expression turns into a small smile and she rolls her eyes. In this light she looks like something hidden away, a secret or a promise, the light just barely touches her and it makes Cassian want to reach out, reach forward, and make sure that she’s real.

“Yeah, of course,” she says, and they can’t sit in the road like this so Cassian starts driving forward even though his head says that there’s nothing _of course_ about it.

“You sure?” he says slowly, dragging out the _you_.

“Yeah,” she says again. “Just spaced out for a second, sorry. And to answer your question, _yes_ , I’m bitter. I’m perfectly capable of walking there myself.”

The car turns onto the main street, past the drugstore and the buildings that they walked past that first night they met. He wonders if this is going to be a regular occurrence between them, the branching unknown that surrounds him, the way she can’t quite hide the things that aren’t right but she tries anyway.

She tries, but Cassian kind of wishes she wouldn’t.

“I wasn’t questioning your capability of walking there. I’m sure you are and that you’ve probably done it before, I just don’t think that it makes sense for you to walk when your house is literally on my way. How could I, in good conscience, let you freeze when it’s no extra effort on my part to drive you there?”

“Cassian Andor and his perfect logic, everybody,” she announces, and she’s smiling even though she looks like she doesn’t want to.

He glances over at her again when they stop at a red light, and it’s mesmerizing, the way the color tangles into her hair and touches her all over. He breathes out slowly. “So what band are we going to see?”

She smiles, genuinely this time, and her teeth look shiny in this light. It reminds him of that first night with her, it hasn’t been that long since then but it’s starting to feel like it. He feels like his reality has completely shifted since he’s met her. It’s shifted into something different, something warm hearted and illogical.

“Honestly?” she asks, and the word is tipped up with the corners of her lips. “I don’t even know. Luke couldn’t make it so he gave me the tickets. He says that they’re good, though.”

“Luke is related to Leia, right?” he asks, thinking of the shaggy blonde haired boy at the drugstore.

“Yeah, they’re twins, if you can believe that,” she says. “To be honest, I was convinced that they made it up until I saw their birth certificates.”

For some reason Cassian laughs at that. “The level at which you know everyone in this town is absurd.”

“Don’t think I’m unaware of that fact.”

They’re almost there now, the station really isn’t that far from her house, and the street winds under the sinking sun. The street lamps are just beginning to light up and all the paths behind the school buildings sit still in the shadows of the trees. Beside him, Jyn shifts in her seat. “Hey did you find out who the cat belonged to?”

“No, Bodhi and I called around today, but there hasn’t been anything yet.”

“So you’re keeping it?” she asks.

“So far.”

The conversation pauses as they get out of the car. The cold descends on them too quickly, settling in all the spaces where Cassian’s coat leaves him vulnerable. It snakes up his sleeves, slips in where his collar meets his neck, and blows freely through his hair.

“That’s cute,” she says, and they climb the steps to the platform, walking together past the few people who are also waiting for the train. It’s mostly other students that Cassian’s seen around campus and he’s sure that Jyn knows them by name, but there’s an older woman and man speaking at the end of the platform. The man has a briefcase with a single yellow paper hanging out, creased and half folded. Cassian and Jyn sit down at one of the open benches with their sides pressed together.

“What’s cute?” he asks, looking up at her. She has her face half tucked in her gray scarf, her eyes crinkle at the corners, and she’s watching Cassian in that way that she has. Ever since that first party, wide eyed and wild, but so focused.

“It’s like a little family. You, Bodhi, and the cat.”

Cassian shakes his head. “His name is K2.”

“The cat? Why?” she asks. “That sounds like a robot.”

“You and your associations...You know, one of the first things you ever said to me was that I looked like Christopher Columbus. Why I chose to spend any more time with you, I have no idea.”

She laughs like she can’t help it. “Someone had to tell you the truth.”

“The truth is that it was a good costume.” And he doesn’t pout, no, not at all.

“Hey, I liked it.”

“Sure you did.”

“I also called you a baby the first time we met, are you going to hold that against me as well?” she asks as the train approaches. It’s a little dizzying, watching her while the rush of yellow speeds by. The rumble of the platform soaks into his bones and they stand at the same time.

“I would,” he says as they merge with the small crowd waiting to get on the train. “But you’d probably call me a baby again.”

She laughs, and the sound floats behind her, right over and around Cassian. “You’re not wrong.”

Over the back of her head he can see the whole interior of the train car, lit up just a shade too bright. There’s an emptiness to their section, that late afternoon stillness seeps into the air, and they walk past rows of empty seats before Jyn decides on one, sliding towards the window. Cassian slides in next to her, close enough that their shoulders brush but still keeping a friendly distance between them.

“You know, this is my first time taking the train since I moved here,” he says.

“When did that happen?”

He thinks back to warm summer days winding down, packing up his room while his sister sulked against the door frame. “The end of August.”

“And what are your thoughts so far?” she asks. “I mean, you’d think that living in a college town there’d be a diverse group of students from all over the world, but most people who go to WSU are from the Whitebridge area. So honestly, I can’t imagine what it would be like moving here.”

They both move as the momentum of the train picks up, the stagnant chain link fence beyond the window slowly blurs into one of the main intersections of town, and the whistle blows loudly around them.

“It’s nice,” he says, and he laughs at the face she makes. “ _It is_ . I went to a big high school and a big college back home, so it’s cool to recognize people around town. Sometimes it’s weird, and you know, sometimes I feel like an outsider, but I have Bodhi.” _And you_ , he wants to add, but he doesn’t know that for sure, so he keeps his mouth shut. “I never really feel alone.”

“Do you two get along?”

“Yeah,” he says absently. Outside the window the woods rush past, and the light slats in between the vertical lines of the trees. “I’m lucky that he needed a roommate. Moving by myself wasn’t something I ever imagined doing, and it wasn’t easy--it still isn’t--but living with him is great.”

From where he’s dazedly watching the fast moving scene beyond the window, he looks over at her, the train’s lights paint over the higher points of her face, and that’s all he can really see past the sun trying to reach him between the trees. “That’s sweet,” she says, and there’s something earnest in her voice that it doesn’t seem like she’s just saying that. “You know, I haven’t seen much of him since high school graduation. When his family moved away last summer I just...assumed that he went with them.”

Cassian remembers when Bodhi told him about his family--it was sometime in early October--the weather had just started to turn cold and they’d accidentally left the windows open all day. Their apartment was freezing when they came home and the two of them took every blanket they had, cranked the heat as high as it would go, and cuddled up in the living room.

Bodhi told him about his his mom and his three younger brothers, that how after months of living without a job or a way to support them, his mother finally found one in Boston. She packed up the family and moved there as soon as she could. The only problem was that Bodhi had already committed to go to WSU, he hadn’t even applied to any Boston schools, and had to stay behind.

Whitebridge State University doesn’t officially have dorms, but the school has a deal with several apartment and condo complexes in the surrounding area, rolling the cost of rent into their school tuition. It made sense then, for Bodhi to move in and post on the school’s Facebook page that he was looking for a roommate.

Cassian answered.

“I think it’s been hard on him,” he says to Jyn, who’s full of dark shadows now with the sun free from the weight of the trees and the buildings, chasing them over the fields and openly crashing in through the window, half-blinding Cassian in a halo around her. “Harder than he’ll admit.”

He thinks about Bodhi sitting at the kitchen table, the constant studying or reading or watching tv, anything to keep distracted. He thinks about the way that he wraps his arms around Cassian when they hug, the long drives they take with the music on full blast. Maybe they’re both escaping something.

Both running away.

Cassian turns his attention forward, to where the conductor’s entered their section of the train, patiently waiting for a couple of teenagers giggling and fumbling with their money. Sometimes he’s so glad that he’s beyond that time in his life and sometimes he misses it more than he could imagine.

“I’m glad Bodhi has you,” Jyn says. Cassian takes out the cash for a round trip ticket. “You and your freakishly neat wallet.”

He laughs. “Don’t act like you’re not impressed.”

“You’ve caught me,” she says, smiling softly. Cassian studies her profile as she digs through her tiny backpack, it’s beaten and black and one of the straps is hanging on by loose white threads.

After they pay for their tickets they fall into a peaceful kind of quiet, disrupted only by the sounds of the train clicking faintly in the background, and the general enthusiasm of the other people on the train, save for an older woman sitting a few rows behind them, fills the empty spaces..

It’s not until the next stop that a middle aged man sits across the aisle from them. Cassian thinks nothing of it at first, but as the train picks up speed again he catches just a glimpse of movement in his peripheral and...the man is flossing his teeth with a little green floss stick, working it along his top row of teeth.

If Cassian’s first response is to elbow Jyn to get her attention, you can’t blame him. She looks up at him, confused for a second before her gaze trails over his shoulder.

He knows the second that she realizes what’s happening because her head snaps away and she’s facing forward again. A slow grin pulls at the corners of her lips, and she looks up at Cassian with wide, expressive eyes, obviously trying not to laugh.  
  
“ _Why_?” she mouths at him.

Cassian just shakes his head, determinedly _not_ looking to his left. He glances down at her next to him, and like this they’re so close. The heaviness of proximity, a speeding train, and the sinking sun, all of it weighs his chest down, down, down. He returns his focus to the window.

Which is when Jyn leans in to say in his ear, “Do you think he had some sort of flossing emergency?”

“What, like he had no choice but to floss on a train?” Cassian asks, keeping his voice low. He takes a quick glance at the man, who’s moved on to his bottom teeth now. “I can’t think of a reason why. Do you think he just carries floss with him wherever he goes?”

“He’s dressed nicely, too,” she says. “What if he’s going on a date? _No_. The poor thing doesn’t know that they’re dating a public flosser.”

Cassian can’t help it, he snorts unattractively. “That sounds like a superhero name: The Public Flosser.”

“More like a villain,” Jyn says, and Cassian’s phone buzzes in his back pocket.

 **From: Leia Skywalker  
** _If I buy you a pizza tonight will you help me study for our test???_

 **To: Leia Skywalker  
** _Can’t tonight_

He texts back quickly and locks his phone. It takes about three seconds for it to light up again.

 **From: Leia Skywalker  
** _Okay okay TWO pizzas. Final offer._

Cassian rolls his eyes and Jyn leans over to read the text.

“Leia’s buying you dinner?” she asks, raising a brow. “Interesting.”

“She’s in my accounting class,” he says, like that’s any explanation.

“And?”

He laughs to himself, idly wiping off the fingerprints from his phone screen. “She’s too diligent for her own good. It’s nothing, and besides, I’m convinced that her and Han belong together.”

“They’re absurd,” she says with a fond smile. “All their fighting isn’t fooling anyone.”

 **From: Leia Skywalker  
** _Cassssssssssssssss_

Jyn snorts. “Come here,” she says. “Give me the phone.”

Warily, he relinquishes his grip on his phone to Jyn’s slender hand. He watches her open the camera app, and it takes a moment for him to realize that she’s tipping her head towards his and angling the phone to fit them both in the frame. He smiles softly, and Jyn snaps the picture.

She inspects it for a moment, biting her lip like she’s trying to hide her reaction, and things like this probably shouldn’t make Cassian wonder if she feels any attraction towards him, but it does.

When she hands his phone back to him, he sees that she sent the picture to Leia.

“Really?” he asks.

“It’s a good one,” she says. “Leia would want to see it.”

He opens the picture, and it’s such a soft thing. The light bends into the frame and illuminates the sides of their faces, they both look happy in such a simple way.

And yeah, he can’t argue with that.

\--

Their stop comes sooner than Cassian expects. One moment he’s trying not to think about how Leia hasn’t texted him back yet, and the next he’s walking down the aisle of the train with Jyn a couple steps behind.

It’s not a train station that they exit onto. Much like Whitebridge, Rosefield has a platform, a couple benches, and a mostly empty parking lot. It feels different, though, with the mountains looming like tall shadows behind the lights of the town. It feels different with Jyn looping her arm through his. The bitter cold leeches back in through his coat and they walk closely along the sidewalk that leads away from the platform.

“Have you been here before?” he asks.

“To Rosefield? Yes. To wherever this guy is playing? No.”

He hums, and though it’s cold there’s still plenty of people out walking, lit up from the streetlights and the lights of the buildings with their breath puffing out in front of their faces. “What kind of music do you usually listen to?” he asks.

“I’m kind of the worst, I just listen to whatever’s on the radio.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” she says, and then she squints up at him. “It’s boring. I hate boring.”

“You’re interesting enough though, I think you can afford to be a little boring when it comes to music.”

“Interesting? Me?” she asks with an air of incredulity, like the very thought of her being mildly interesting is absurd. “You’re on drugs.”

“Oh come on,” he shoots back. “If you think you’re not interesting because you’re from Whitebridge or because you haven’t done the traveling that you want to do yet, you’re wrong. Each conversation I have with you is completely fascinating, I have no idea how your brain works with all of its wondering and ideas, but I think it’s great. And though we were drunk that night we met, that was probably the most interesting thing I’ve done all year.”

She stops them from walking, and a small shiver works its way through Cassian’s body. There’s something sincere about her smile and the caution in her eyes.  “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” she says, sarcastically.

Cassian slips into a smile, turning his head away and focusing on a store across the street that looks like it’s glowing from the inside out, like a jack-o-lantern, like Halloween, like a memory. “Yeah, well...”

“You’re a sap,” she says, and they start walking again. “I like it, though. I knew there was a reason I asked you to come tonight.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re bored of everyone else in Whitebridge?”

“No, I’ve made my peace with that ages ago,” she says, winking at him. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then: “You don’t really think that, do you?”

“No,” he answers immediately, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk. The spaces between cracks are perfectly spaced for him to step twice within them. “I don’t know. I joke about it a lot, maybe there’s something deep and unconscious about it.”

“That’s very insightful of you, Mr. Andor. Is that something you want to explore?”

He half laughs. “Absolutely not. I don’t need any repressed memories to surface and ruin the rest of my life, thank you.”

Or rather, he knows that there’s nothing repressed about the memories that’ll stay with him the rest of his life, thank you.

Jyn tugs at his arm. “Let’s not talk about that, then. Tonight’s supposed to be fun. And besides, I think it’s right down this street.”

They turn the corner where, sure enough, there’s a small crowd gathered outside a door at the end of a row of brick buildings. The sun has fully set but the streetlights are on, and the whole street glows almost eerily under the blanket darkness above them.

“I thought you said this was a concert?” he asks after they hand their tickets to the man at the door. Inside the restaurant is half-lit and most of the tables have been cleared out in favor of standing room, or a dance floor, Cassian can’t be sure. There’s a stage opposite of the bar, and several people are setting up guitars and amplifiers in a hurry. It isn’t too busy, but he supposes that’s because it’s still early. Most people are sat at the tables along the edge of the main room, and it looks like there might be another dining room off to the side.

“See?” she says, and they take two seats at the end of the bar. “I mean, it’s no Madison Square Garden, but come on, we’re in Vermont.”

“We should go to Madison Square Garden,” he says, rubbing a thumb over the polished wood countertop. He looks up at her. “You and me.”

She raises a brow. “Don’t tempt me, I’m saving my money.”

The bartender comes by and they order drinks. Neither of them are twenty one so they stick to soda ( _Let me guess, it’s too boring for you,_ he teases) and Cassian’s attention returns to her as soon as the bartender walks away. “So we’ll sneak in the back. Come on, I’ve got a car and it’s, what, four hours from here? Piece of cake.”

“And where will we stay?” she asks.

“Did I mention the car?”

She laughs. “Who will we see?”

“Depends, we need to figure out what kind of music you like first.”

“Might take a while,” she says, with her eyes wide like she’s won. Are they arguing? Cassian can’t tell.

“I’m willing to wait,” he says, and the moment feels bigger than it probably is. He means it, though. He would do so much for her and he isn’t sure if he should be afraid of that or not. They stare at each other as though they’re daring one another to say something first.

“Let’s get mozzarella sticks,” she says finally. “We can share them. Do you like marinara sauce?”

He looks at her for a long moment and she doesn’t break, she keeps the small grin on her face and raises her brows at the suggestion. He can’t help it, he caves. “Yes, I do.”

“Good,” she says, more to herself, and grins at him before turning to the bartender, who’s bringing over their drinks.

They order mozzarella sticks and Cassian tells her about his classes to pass the time. She listens attentively to him ramble on about accounting and how he doesn’t know how he’d survive without Leia there. He tells her about his intro to philosophy class, how Bodhi makes fun of him every time he complains about it.

_It’s not even philosophy, you’re doing truth tables._

And all of it hits something in Cassian, watching her laugh at his impression of Bodhi--with a red basket of mozzarella sticks between them--how attentive and understanding she is. There’s something so comforting about the way she listens, how minutely her face shifts and changes, reacting openly and easily. For all the time that they spend together, they’re usually going somewhere--walking to the drugstore or to class or driving in the car or riding the train--so it’s nice to sit facing her and just talk and talk and then maybe they stop talking when the music comes on, Cassian’s not really sure.

All he knows is that one minute she’s telling him about a customer that bought about a dozen packs of those neon index cards she made him buy, and the next there’s live music playing.

It’s a group of three men and two women, styled casually and spread out across the stage with various instruments. The lead singer is on the keyboard, and he’s singing a song that Cassian doesn’t recognize, but it has a good beat and the lights turn low now that the show’s started. There’s quite a few people who aren’t shy about moving towards the dance floor, a mixed group of couples and single people dance freely while others stand around and sway or move their head to the beat.

Cassian looks over to smile at Jyn, but she’s getting off of her stool and her head is bent low to talk to a woman over the sound of the music. He spends a moment confused until Jyn makes room for the woman to take her seat, coming around to stand next to Cassian,

With her standing, they’re about the same height and she stands close enough that their faces are perfectly level and he _can’t_ look down at her lips because he would absolutely kiss her right now if he did. Instead, he moves to get up. “Take my seat,” he says to her, but she puts a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine,” she says. “I actually prefer to stand.”

To prove her point she does a little dance, moving her shoulders and hips in a little back and forth motion along with the beat. Cassian feels like his heart’s going to burst at how adorable it is; he can feel his whole face smiling while he watches her, and she keeps her eyes locked on him. The rest of the room is meaningless in comparison.

She can’t keep it up though, she laughs a full body laugh and it’s so good to see her this happy. It makes him wildly happy too, like it’s some sort of sympathetic feeling. “Come here,” he says, and she does, she comes towards him, through the shadows of the room, half lit from behind the bar, and he takes her by the shoulders, spinning her so that she can face the stage. She leans back against him and he wraps his arms around her waist, praying that she can’t feel how fast his heart is beating.

It’s not even a slow song, but she rests the back of her head against his shoulder and tips her mouth towards his ear. “I’m glad you came,” she says. “This is fun.”

He nods. “Me too.”

They stay like that for the rest of the song, Cassian ends up tipping his head down next to hers and they’re so close, they fit so perfectly together. When he adjusts his grip she leans more heavily against him, back to chest, and this is it, he could stay like this all night.

There’s a large part of him that’s burning to question what all of this means, but he’s trying to quiet that part of his brain. Right now isn’t the time. Jyn turns around and says, “We should dance!”, and it must only be a moment later, but she has her hand in his and they’re walking into the crowd of bodies on the dancefloor, somehow fitting into a small gap between people.

Song after song, the dizzying lights and filtered air. Her body is in full motion, and her eyes keep seeking out Cassian’s despite them dancing and people bumping into them. There’s the singer up on the stage, letting go of the words that he’s singing, and there’s an electric current in the air, a live wire, and it’s nothing like the first time they danced at that Halloween party.

They’re not going anywhere. He has one of his hands around her waist, and she has her arm around his neck. Their hips sway effortlessly to the beat, just barely brushing together, and one song blends into the other. It’s like a trance, Cassian almost feels drunk with the way that everything slows down, becomes heavy, and draws him closer and closer.

He brings his other hand to her waist, his fingers grasp at her white sweater possessively, bringing her closer. The way she moves is hypnotizing, nearly overwhelming, and they’re dancing too close now. The beat picks up and his eyes drag down to her lips. It’s too much, if he stays right here he’s going to close the gap between them and kiss her.

As much as he wants to, and as much as he thinks she might be willing to, it doesn’t seem like the right moment. Their physical proximity, the driving beat, and the way their bodies move is too convenient. He wants to know that it means something

Which is probably a mistake on his part.

But as much as he wants to think of exit strategies, he can’t. Selfishly, committedly, openly he wants to stay right here, and as the song ends the whole room hushes into a silence that fills the empty spaces within the restaurant. One of the men on the stage takes out an acoustic guitar and the light shines on him like headlights or a floodlight, blinding and full of importance.

It’s a slow song that he plays, the opening notes are soft and his voice is low, lulling them into a comfortable sway. Jyn looks up at him, as if asking for permission, and he nods before she leans her head closer, nestling just under her chin. Both of her arms are wrapped around his neck, and he can’t help the way that his body moves to fit against hers.

He closes his eyes. Everything is blanketed in darkness, and all there is is the motion of their bodies shifting and exchanging their shared weight back and forth. There’s the smell of her perfume, something sweet and comforting, possibly vanilla, and she brushes her fingers across the hair at the base of his neck, sending a shiver down through his body. And yeah, he might be dying a little on the inside, yeah, he might feel like he’s splitting apart at the edges, but he’s also coming alive. He’s bleeding out the worries and insecurities and letting the light in, as dim as it is.

Cassian is almost completely lulled by it all--the music is soft, repetitive, and slow, and he’s so comfortable with how Jyn fits perfect against him, warm and secure and they easily keep rhythm with the guitar melody. It would be perfect, absolutely perfect if his lungs didn’t itch. That familiar desire for a cigarette comes crawling into the light--he can’t remember how long it’s been since his last--and he hates himself for it.

He clears his throat once, twice, and it gets better. He tries to put it out of his mind, attempting to ignore the way that his hands slightly tremble by tightening his grasp on Jyn.

It’s not his best idea. She pulls back, and it’s like that dark classroom with Professor Krennic, like the lights being turned on without warning. “Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, fine,” he answers, but he can tell she doesn’t buy it. “Sorry, I just need a cigarette.”

“Okay,” she says, and she stops dancing completely. It shifts the whole room unsteadily, both of them stand still while the music continues to play and everyone around them continues to move. She leans in so he can hear her. “I’ll come with you.”

“No,” he answers automatically. “I’m not going to smoke if it’s going to bother you.”

“It’s fine,” she insists. “We should probably get going anyway. Can’t stay forever.”

Their eyes lock for an agonizing moment of indecision, and he reluctantly nods his head towards the door, glancing behind him to see her following behind. His eyes roam over the whole restaurant, taking in one last look at the stage and the bar and all spaces that they took up only moments earlier. On their way out the door, he spares a thought to wish that they could stay forever.

\--

Blue smoke. Cassian has his back against the concrete wall of the side of the building. It’s all smoke, blue smoke, and it warms his fingertips and his lungs as he breathes in the thick air.

And he almost can’t believe it, can almost convince himself that this is all a dream.

He’s standing across from Jyn, watching her walk up and down the curb, balancing just on the edge. A wobble here and there, but she’s steady and she moves in front of the streetlight, casting her shadow on Cassian, and he could stay here all night, right in her shadow. Really, he could.

“I’m sorry,” he says, trying to tuck away the guilt that comes with each drag, but blowing the smoke away from her doesn’t do much to ease its burden.

“It’s not the smoke itself that bothers me,” she says, pausing at the streetlamp. He watches her curl her hands around it. “It just, um, reminds me of my dad, I guess.”

“Oh,” he says, and he has Bodhi’s voice in the back of his mind. _Something happened with her dad a few years back._ “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really, no,” she answers, laughing a little. It doesn’t ease the tension of the moment. It’s the two of them, standing across from each other with only the dissipating smoke filling the space between them like a barrier. Their eyes stay locked, and Cassian feels like he’s searching for some sort of answer in her gaze, an answer to the questions he can’t ask.

_Why did we dance like that? Why did you ask me to come tonight when you could’ve asked any of your other friends?_

He doesn’t know what answer she’s looking for, what questions she’s asking.

“There’s also the fact that it’s basically the stupidest thing you could do,” she adds.

“I know,” he says defeatedly, like he hasn’t been told that by most people in his life. “It’s not that easy to quit.”

“I could help you.”

He smiles freely at her, she’s just standing there watching him with her body supported by the streetlamp, and he knows that he’s going to say something embarrassing if he opens his mouth so he takes another drag from his cigarette. Luckily, they’re both distracted by a guy who stops a couple feet away from Cassian, lighting up a cigarette of his own and leaning his head against the wall. Cassian knows the feeling.

“Excuse me,” she says to him. Cassian raises a brow as he looks over at her, and he looks like a typical, mid-thirties guy with short curly hair and a flannel shirt on over a black t-shirt despite how frigid it is outside. Jyn shakes her bangs out of her eyes. “I haven’t been to Rosefield in a while, but I remember a small diner, I think it was blue? I’m fairly sure that it was around here, I was wondering if you could point us in the right direction?”

The guy takes a long drag before answering. “You’re thinking of Ellen’s. Yeah, it’s on State Street, just a few blocks that way.” He points across the street where the intersection is. “Can’t miss it with that new neon sign out front.”

“Thanks, friend,” she says, then turns her attention towards Cassian. “Want to go?”

“Yeah,” he says, and he drops the cigarette to the ground, crushing it with a little less mercy than he usually would, leaving its ashy, crumpled remains behind. He adjusts his coat and falls into step with Jyn, crossing the street in a hurry.

“My hands are freezing,” she says after they’ve been walking quietly for a minute or so.

He looks down where she’s stretching her fingers out at her sides. “What happened to your gloves?”

She looks up at him with a glare, and it’s only half clear in the low light but he can see the way her mouth tips down and her eyes narrow. “I left them in your car. You know, this wouldn’t have happened if I’d walked.”

“I’m not apologizing for driving you,” he says. Then: “Come here.”

He reaches over a takes her hand, figuring that if they were comfortable enough dancing together tonight then this should be fine. Her thin fingers fold neatly into the spaces between his, and her skin is cold but he holds on tightly. She doesn’t say anything about it, but she gives him a smirk, like she can see right through him.

Still, she’s gripping his hand just as tight.

“So a diner, huh?” he says, trying to pick up the conversation to distract his brain from firing off in a million directions. “Are you hungry?”

She shrugs, and it jostles their hands a little. “I’m in the mood for a bagel.”

The thought strikes him strangely. “A night bagel?” he questions.

She laughs and they turn down a street that has just one streetlight at the end, leaving the rest of the road to stretch out into the darkness. “That sounds like the perfect superhero to defeat the Public Flosser.”

Cassian snorts. “Yes! He could have a slingshot and shoot sesame seeds at that terrible man from the train.”

“That was so gross,” she says. “But at the same time I feel like I would watch a documentary on him. He seemed interesting.”

“You _would_ think that.”

She hits their joined hands against his thigh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You and your mad desire to be interesting and find everything in the world interesting is interesting in itself.”

“Stop saying the word interesting.”

“ _Interesting_.”

“You’re _so_ funny,” she says sarcastically, and then she juts her chin forward to gesture at the diner at the end of the street. It is blue, fairly small, and there’s a neon sign hovering over the parking lot that says _Ellen’s Diner_. “Looks the same as it does in my memory.”

“When’s the last time you came here?” he asks as they wait by the crosswalk for the signal to cross.

She laughs, shaking her head a little, and there aren’t any cars coming but they wait anyway. There’s the empty street and them waiting on the corner of the sidewalk. The whole scene feels desolate, but at the same time she’s all he needs to focus on. Her face glows where the traffic light strikes her just so, and she smiles easily, as though she’s unaware she’s even doing it. “It was a few years ago, I think it was right before my birthday. My boyfriend and I broke up here.”

“What?”

The sign changes and the red lights of the intersection reflect onto the street. The two of them cross over, and it’s just like that first night, hands clasped together. He’s not as dizzy and not as frantic, but still utterly and completely fascinated.

“Yeah,” she says. “God, I must’ve been sixteen. It was such a strange experience. We were coming down here to visit his uncle whose dog just had puppies, but we argued the entire train ride. It was obvious that the whole relationship wasn’t going anywhere, so we came to this diner, broke up, and still somehow enjoyed breakfast.”

He holds the door open for her. “The food was that good?”

She smiles in response. The whole place is like something out the fifties, complete with a black and white checkered floor, red plastic seats at the counter, and chrome lined tables and chairs stretched along either side of the entrance. There’s a sign that tells them to seat themselves, right next to a revolving case full of slices of pie, so they take a seat at one of the booths next to a wide window with a view of the parking lot.

“The food’s good,” she confirms. “But it wasn’t devastating. I was never that invested in the relationship, so breaking up wasn’t a huge, heartbroken event.”

“How long were you two together?”

She shrugs. “Five, six months?”

He thinks of a way to respond, but what’s going through his head doesn’t connect to what she’s saying. He’s mostly wondering about other relationships she’s had, or if she’s even in a relationship at the moment. Neither of them have mentioned anything close to the topic until now, and he’s about to say something about it when the waitress comes over.

Jyn greets her and orders a plain bagel-- _lightly toasted, please_ \--and Cassian, who never bothered to look at the menu, orders a tea with milk.

“So anyway, the way I see it,” Jyn says before he can return to the previous subject. “Is that we have about forty minutes or so until the next train comes and it’s a fifteen minute walk to get there, so we should probably leave in like twenty minutes, which is ample bagel time.”

He smirks. “You’re always full of ideas, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, lightly tapping her finger against the table a few times. “I have a few here and there.”

He raises a brow at her, trying not to crack a smile because out of the few times he’s spent with her, she’s been the one to suggest what they do, or come up with something or somewhere to go. Even at that party it was her, _Let’s get out of here, then. This party’s getting on my nerves,_ that got them moving.

What would’ve happened if she’d never said that? Could they be here now if she hadn’t had the idea about the greenhouse? How alive that moment feels in his memory, drunk and wildly happy, the bright golden lights and flash of her disposable camera.

“What are you smiling at?” Jyn asks.

That’s when his tea comes, in a big red mug that’s shaped roundly and has a small chip at the bottom. “Thank you,” he says to the waitress-- _Erica_ , her nametag reads--and he dunks the tea bag into the hot water with his spoon. When he glances up Jyn’s watching him curiously, so he shrugs. “I was thinking about the greenhouse.”

“I like the greenhouse,” she says softly, and then she quirks her lips to the side. “You know, I read an article the other day that you can tell a lot about a person by the way that they take their coffee or tea.”

He glances up from where he’s wrapping the tea bag around his spoon, a little confused by the change of subject. “Oh yeah?”

She nods, watching him pour a dash of milk and sugar into the mug. “I can’t remember most of the particulars, but it was kind of stupid. Like, if you drink it black you’re a more straightforward person, or if you put milk or cream in then you’re emotionally balanced.”

“I only put milk in it because I don’t like the consistency of hot water,” he says, looking down into his mug and then up at her. She’s watching him casually, not as wide eyed and focused as she usually is. It’s more relaxed, comfortable. “And just a little bit of sugar to make it sweet.”

He pushes the mug towards her, and she smiles a closed lipped smile at him before lifting the mug with two hands, one on the handle and one to steady the other side. She takes a ginger sip, setting it down and sliding it back towards him with a nod.

“Not bad,” she says.

“So are you looking deep into my psyche now?”

“Oh yes, all of your secrets are mine,” she says, and she grins easily. The waitress returns with Jyn’s bagel on a cheery yellow plate, toasted golden brown on the edges.

He hums to himself. “There is, actually, something about me that I want you to know,” Cassian says once they’re alone again and the rest of the diner is a low sound in the background, small voices and traces of conversations here and there.

Concern rushes over her features but she’s quick to smooth it out into something neutral. “Is this where my opinion of you changes forever? Is this diner cursed?”

“No, nothing like that,” he says and he laughs a little. He runs his index finger along the smooth edge of the spoon’s handle. “It’s not a huge deal, but it’s kind of important to me. The thing is, my family is not my biological family, I was adopted when I was a baby.”  
  
“Adopted?” she asks before ripping off a small piece of her bagel. “Is that something you don’t generally share with others?”

“Eh,” he says, pausing to sip his tea. It’s cooled off enough that he can drink it without having to be ginger about it. “I don’t go around advertising it, but I don’t hide it either. Growing up, I would usually tell my friends before they came over my house, it really explains the whole, _I have a white family_ thing.”

“Oh yeah?” she says with an amused laugh. “What’s your family like?”

Cassian smiles at the thought of them. “They’re incredible. My parents have been married for close to thirty years and they’re still so happy with each other. They adopted me after they found out that they couldn’t have children, but when I was nine my mom had my little sister Casey. We’d call her _our little miracle_ when she was a baby. I love her to death, she’s just pure energy all of the time.”

“God, she must look up to you,” Jyn says.

“I don’t know about that,” he answers. “She loves to tease me about _everything_. It’s funny, whenever I take her anywhere people assume that I’m her dad, even though we don’t look anything alike. She always just goes along with it.”

Jyn laughs, offering him the last bit of her bagel but he shakes his head. “You must really miss them, then.”

With a wistful smile, he feels that familiar _pang_ that seemingly always lurks under the surface. “To be honest, I try not to think about it. I went home over Columbus Day weekend, and we’ve got the holidays coming up, so I’m just trying to look forward to that instead of focusing on what I’m missing out on right now.”

“That’s good,” she says, and she looks sad for a tiny, brief moment before Erica comes by and leaves the check on their table. They both glance at it and then back to each other. “Is it weird if I say that I want to meet them?” she asks.

“No,” he answers honestly, trying to picture Jyn in the extra seat at their dining room table. “My parents would love you. Just...you being you would be enough to keep them entertained and talking about you to their neighbors on Life nights.”

“Life nights?”

“You know the board game? They have their friends over, basically the neighbors across the street and my aunt and uncle, cook dinner, and play two rounds. It’s a weekly thing.”

“That sounds like so much fun,” she says excitedly. She pushes her yellow plate out of the way so she can rest her elbows on the table. “I want to play.”

“If you come over my house, I promise we will,” he says. “You have to be careful though, Bob McCarthy somehow always lands on the square that allows him to sue you for $100,000. It’s the most annoying thing.”

She laughs. “Well, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we?”

He smiles at her before looking down at the check again. “We should probably get going,” he says. He really doesn’t want to but it’s starting to get late and it’s the last train of the night, so they can’t risk missing it. They both sit there for a long moment before they realize that neither of them are making any moves to actually leave. They laugh, and Cassian shakes his head before he reaches for the check.

“How much do I owe?” she asks.

“For your Night Bagel? Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

He looks up to see her giving him a look. “Don’t do that.”

“Jyn, it’s like three dollars, plus I’m having a good time and it was really nice of you to invite me. Let this be my way of saying thank you.” He takes out his wallet, and she smiles at it before rolling her eyes and looking away. He leaves a ten dollar bill on the table and moves to get up. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” she says on a sigh. “Once again, you and your flawless logic...but thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

When he holds the door open for her she pauses right in front of him. “And thanks for telling me about your family.”

“Anytime,” he says, keeping his gaze on her eyes. They’re standing close enough that their coats brush at the shoulder, and the cold air rushes in from the outside, rushes in just like the car, and they’re letting all the heat out.

He holds her hand again, but neither of them say anything about it. They hold hands and step between the shadows and the streetlamps’ light, tracing the path that they took earlier back to the train station.

\--

Cold.

The platform is cold.

It’s too late for Cassian, he can feel the chill in his feet and his hands, and he can hear Jyn’s teeth chattering. It’s 10:02 and the train has yet to arrive. They’re standing at the end of the platform because all of the benches are taken up, and he bounces on his feet to keep himself moving but it’s not helping him warm up.

He looks over at Jyn, he can’t see her lips because she has her scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face, but she has her brows dragged down in an unpleasant way and he doesn’t like seeing her upset.

Neither of them say anything but the solution seems to present itself rather clearly to them both. Cassian unbuttons his old itchy coat and turns to Jyn, who snakes her arms inside and wraps them around his back, pressing herself against his chest. He holds her tightly, resting his cheek against the top of her head, and it’s almost like when they were dancing but instead they’re standing still. He can feel the flat of her palms spread across his back, and he tangles his hands in the back of her scarf in an attempt to keep them warm.

The lights are low here but it doesn’t matter, Cassian closes his eyes and focuses on the heat that her body seeps into his. It’s not much, but it’s enough that they both stop shivering.

He’s not used to this, this...closeness. He’s been in relationships before that were never like this, so comfortable and easy, but he doesn’t think he should compare this to a relationship. They’ve yet to have anything close to that conversation, and he doesn’t know if Jyn wants to, he doesn’t even know if he’s ready to.

He just knows that though they were dancing so closely earlier, and though they’re holding each other right now in a less than friendly way, he couldn’t just lean down and kiss her.

Could he?

He doesn’t know what she wants, but he doesn’t think that she would reject him outright. Who is he kidding if he thinks that she feels nothing for him, given the way that tonight’s gone? Given the way that they’ve been the entire time they’ve known each other, so easily falling into this rhythm of solid intimacy?

He has to wonder if tonight is his opportunity, as if he misses it then it’ll be confirmation for them both that it’s not supposed to happen. He has to wonder if that was her reason behind asking him to come with her all along, if that was her nudge to get him to make a move, and now she thinks he doesn’t want her at all.

The sound of the train whistle comes into range and he has to consider his options. He could do it, right now, he could lean down and press his lips to hers. Or, he could let the both of them get on that train and be stuck wondering if that’s what he should’ve done.

The whistle sounds again and Jyn dislodges herself, leaning back to look up at him with a small grin. Her scarf has fallen from where it was wrapped around the lower half of her face, and he glances down at her lips. This could be it.

 _But what if she doesn’t want you?_ The thought runs like the train through his head, frozen, looking at her. If she doesn’t want him, then he’d ruin everything by doing this.

Indecision flows freely through him, and before he can make up his mind she’s pulling away from him, moving to crowd around the train door with everyone else. Begrudgingly, with no small amount of self-loathing, Cassian follows her, staying just a half step behind until they’re safe in the warmth of the train.

They settle in, her against the window again, and him pressed against her side. They don’t say anything as the train picks up speed, gliding through the landscape, but eventually she rests her head on his shoulder and breathes out a long, calm breath.

Outside the moon is beginning to rise, waning past its fullness, and it stays fixed in the train window. Cassian keeps his eyes glued to it, shifting a little to settle more comfortably against Jyn, and rests his head against hers. He knows, beyond all his self-conscious indecision, that he can’t be too upset with himself for not kissing her.

This is not a bad place to be.

\--

The car ride home isn’t too different, they’re both quiet and the dark moves over them as the streets wind home away from the train station. The roads are relatively empty at this time of night, and Jyn tips her head against the window with her eyes closed.

The distant light curves over her eyelids and down the slope of her nose, dipping further towards her chin and where her hand holds her head up.

When he parks in her driveway he reaches over to touch her shoulder. She stirs, lifting her head sleepily to look over at him.

Neither of them say anything, and Cassian doesn’t want to leave her, he doesn’t want the night to end yet. He thinks right now he could start it all over again, right from the beginning, and enjoy it just as much. He always enjoys himself when he’s with her.

“Sorry for being so sleepy,” she says, and she looks hesitant to leave as well. “I’m not thanking you for driving me, but thanks for coming with me tonight. I had a really, really good time.”

He laughs, nodding once. “Me too.”

They look at each other for a moment longer, and Cassian knows it’s another missed opportunity as she wraps her scarf around her face again, but he doesn’t mind as much right now. Her eyes crinkle happily at the corners and she opens her door, leaving behind an empty space as she walks in front the car and up the front steps.

He has to admit to himself that it’s hard to watch her unlock the front door. It’s always hard watching her leave, but it just seems to get worse. He--briefly--considers getting out of the car and chasing her up the steps, he even has his hand on the door handle, but he doesn’t know what he’d do when he gets there. He’s never been in this limbo of friends or more than friends or whatever they are, finding their place somewhere in between.

And they are finding their place, he tells himself. He watches her slip away into the warm light of her aunt’s house, here and then there. They’ll figure it out, he just has to give it time.

\--

_But still._

\--

“Idiot,” he says to himself on the drive home.

The streets slip away quickly, but his mind is lost in thought. How many times will he do this to himself? How much easier would it be if she gave any indication that she wanted more out of their relationship as well? But she has, hasn’t she? Isn’t that what tonight was?

“Idiot,” he says again, shutting the car door and locking it.

Why can’t he just let himself enjoy it? Why does he have to put this pressure on himself to understand what it is? Jyn seems to be fine with their relationship, and like he’d said to Bodhi earlier tonight, she’s not exactly quiet about the things that she wants.

_The girl with the ideas._

He just doesn’t know.

So he drags himself up the stairs to his apartment, still shaking from the cold, and he leans his forehead against their door as he jams the key into the lock. Inside the tv is muted, but its images light up the room and flash over the otherwise dark walls. Bodhi’s on the couch, curled up on his side, asleep. K2 is curled up half on his head, half on the pillow he’s resting on.

This, he knows, is something he gets to keep.

 _It’s like a little family_ , Jyn had said earlier. The thought brings a small smile to his face, and Cassian moves as quietly as he can through the living room, turning off the tv on his way to the bedroom.

Maybe he just needs a little perspective. Maybe he needs to put his warmest sweatpants on because he’s absolutely freezing and his bed looks so comfortable. He changes quickly, putting on a pair of fresh socks even though his feet might be a hopeless cause. He imagines himself with stiff, frozen feet for the rest of his life and scrunches up his nose. It’s not a good thought.

It’s when he’s brushing his teeth that he’s reminded of the Public Flosser, and he may or may not laugh as he spits his toothpaste into the sink.

The moonlight--that same moon from the train--blinks in through his shades, and he settles into his bed, pulling his blanket up to his chin. His mind feels alive, flying through thoughts at a restless pace, but his whole body aches with exhaustion. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is the light organized in straight lines on his ceiling. He thinks that maybe he can feel that light inside of him, clear and unwavering, and eventually he sinks into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tldr; Jyn and Cassian are dating and don't know it. That's it. That's the chapter.


	5. The Softening Blows II

“You’re causing a scene.”

Cassian groans, not lifting his head from where he’s resting it on his arms. The sounds of the restaurant around him are quiet at the moment, blending together in a way that he finds comforting. It’s still very early in the day, but he’s absolutely exhausted.

“Also that’s your third cup of tea,” he hears Bodhi say. “That can’t be healthy.”

Cassian finally looks up, blinking his eyes at Bodhi, who’s watching him from across the booth. It’s very different from where he was with Jyn last night. They’re tucked away inside the restaurant, towards the back where the door to the kitchen is, and it’s a trendy place with a wooden infrastructure that reminds Cassian of a barn. But it’s warm and it’s cozy, there’s a fireplace on one wall stacked with wood, burning silently behind the glass.

However, the menu features kale salads and Bodhi’s smoothie came in a mason jar with a piece of twine wrapped around it, which perplexed them both, and this time there’s no bagel. Instead there’s Bodhi’s omelette and a bowl of oatmeal that didn’t sit right in Cassian’s stomach and was quickly abandoned.

“I have a sore throat,” he defends, looking down into his mug. This one’s pale green and on the side it says _hope_ in white letters. His tea is cold now, and though it’s his third cup, he’s tempted to ask the waitress to reheat it for him.

Bodhi watches him carefully. “You might be getting sick. We didn’t have to come this morning if you weren’t feeling well.”

“I’m fine,” Cassian says, shrugging, even though the way his throat burns says otherwise. “I’m hoping it’s just the dry air.”

“Yeah, definitely not the fact that you froze to death last night.”

“Shh, we don’t have to talk about that,” he says, going for something light in his tone, but it doesn’t work so he looks away from Bodhi. The lights are on in the restaurant, but the sun streaming in almost makes everyone seem hazy and dream-like, something far away but still present.

“About you freezing, or your date with Jyn?”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“ _Sure_ , pal.”

Cassian rolls his eyes. “So what? Just because we went out together last night does not mean she feels anything for me.”

“I get that,” he replies, “but you have to admit that the way things went can easily lead to that conclusion.”

“But nothing really happened.”

Bodhi sighs. “You’re so negative this morning.”

“Yeah, well,” he says. “I don’t know what we are, what we’re doing, or what any of it means. I’m starting to drive myself crazy thinking about it.”

Bodhi looks at him thoughtfully for a long moment. “The way I see it, you two are friends, right? If you can’t be happy with being just friends, then you have to do something about it. Otherwise you’re both going to get hurt.”

“But I’m not unhappy being friends,” he defends, trying to sort out what all of this means in his head. There has to be a right way to explain it. “I love hanging out with her, and I genuinely want to be around her all the time. But there’s also the fact that I’m attracted to her, and I can’t help thinking about what it would be like to be more.”

“So you’re stuck somewhere in the middle?”

“Confusing, right?”

Bodhi pauses, sipping his coffee. “Have you considered asking her?”

“No...I don’t know,” he says. “You’re the one who told me to be careful.”

“Cass, we’re kind of past the point of being careful.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you were being careful you wouldn’t be questioning this. You didn’t have to get so close to her so quickly--I’m still confused about the Halloween thing, by the way--but obviously you already care about her, there’s no going back at this point.”

Cassian puts his head back down with a pitiful noise. “I do care,” he groans.

“Yeah, so stop driving yourself crazy over thinking it.”

He looks up at him. “How.”

“I think you need to make a decision. Either consciously move forward, talk to her, and see if there’s something there, or just enjoy the friendship for what it is and stop questioning what everything means. I think you’ll be a lot happier.”

Cassian squints his eyes at him, taking in his slightly rumpled appearance. He always looks so comfortable, even when his hands fidget nervously with his napkin or he breaks eye contact too soon. He’s so sweet and determined to be himself that he always embraces exactly who he is, and Cassian loves him for it.  
  
Even now, as the sun touches the bottom of his chin, reaching across his neck and down onto his shoulder, just like it’s laying a hand on him--love or security, perhaps--Cassian trusts that he absolutely wants what’s best for him.

“You’re right,” he agrees. “I don’t think I want to force anything, just let it be what it is right now.”

Bodhi winks at him. “Atta boy.”

Cassian automatically smiles in response, and he glances around at the restaurant, swallowing down his sore throat. “Okay, let’s get the hell out of here.”

\--

It’s later, when they’re heading home, that Cassian brings it up again.

“You know, we talked about you a little last night,” he says.

Bodhi looks up from where he had his head bent down towards his phone, it’s plugged into the charger in the cigarette lighter, and Cassian’s confused, because he swears that Bodhi looks worried. “What did she say about me?” he asks.

“Not much, she seemed happy that we have each other.”

Bodhi cracks a smile at that, and turns his head to face the window. He doesn’t say anything else, and Cassian glances over at him as he pulls onto the main road. “Hey, are you still worried about Jyn?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, when you told me to be careful, you said you were worried I’d get hurt. Do you still feel like that?”

Bodhi lifts one shoulder in response, and the light seems to touch him all at once. “She wouldn’t hurt you on purpose,” he says. “She just gets in her own way sometimes.”

 _She just gets in her own way sometimes_. Cassian frowns as he pulls through an intersection, trying to figure that out. It’s frustrating to get these pieces of information from Bodhi and then feel like he can’t ask him about it, like he’s left to understand it on his own and something’s always getting in his way.

He knows that Jyn is guarded about certain things, he knows the look in her eye that she has when she needs to change the subject. He hasn’t been blind to these things but he also hasn’t given them much thought.

Maybe he really thinks that she’ll open up to him someday.

And if she doesn’t?

No, he can’t go there. He can’t get ahead of himself because that’s when doubt and insecurity creep in and he said that he’d take it easy, he said that he’d be her friend and see what happens, because that’s all he really can do. Otherwise, yeah, he’s going to drive himself crazy, and that feels more dangerous than anything Jyn could do to hurt him.

What does that even mean? Anyone has the potential of hurting anyone, he doesn’t get why he has to be wary of her, specifically. If she gets in her own way, that’s fine, it’s not like Cassian would abandon her for it. They could handle it.

(He realizes of course, even to himself, how incredibly naive that sounds.)

“Okay,” is what he eventually says to Bodhi, even though the pause between them has been entirely too long to pick up the conversation again. Bodhi looks over at him and presses his lips together, but they turn up at the edges and that’s all that can really be done.

They drive home with just the sound of the radio playing between them.

\--

 **To: Leia Skywalker  
** _Pretty sure I’ll fail the test anyway if I get the professor sick_  
_..._  
_So there’s no point in studying, right?_

 **From: Leia Skywalker:  
** _Are you okay?_

 **To: Leia Skywalker  
** _Who really knows???_

\--

Cassian hums to himself. His sore throat has expanded in size and strength, and the entirety of it feels swollen now. It burns when he swallows and when he breathes and basically every moment of his existence.

So like, that’s great.

And on top of that there’s so much sinus pressure that it hurts to keep his eyes open. He’s sitting at his desk in his room, but he has his eyes closed and he’s quickly giving up on studying for his accounting test.

He has the neon index cards out in front of him, at least he had the foresight to write them out yesterday before his cold started developing in earnest. It’s too much to read them now, he’s definitely not going to retain any information, so he abandons them to lay down on his bed.

The ceiling blurs into the edges of his vision until all he sees is cream colored and vaguely textured. It spins a little as he moves to fish his phone out of his pocket, and he goes to text Jyn, but the brightness of his screen makes him squint, so hits the call button instead. With his eyes now closed, he listens to the phone ring and ring and his heart picks up the pace. He definitely didn’t think this through.

“Hello?” she answers.

“Jyn,” he says, drawing her name out.

“Yes?”

“ _Jyn_.”

“Cassian.”

“My face hurts,” he says. “I think I’m getting sick.”

He hears her sigh into the receptor, and it’s like this: he wants to play it cool with her but that’s much easier said than done. “Is it from getting cold the other night?” she asks.

“That’s what Bodhi thinks.”

There’s a long pause, enough that Cassian pulls his phone away from his face to make sure they’re still connected. “Okay, then,” she says soon after that. “Give me your symptoms, you said your face hurts?”

“Feels like sinus pressure, but I can still breathe out of my nose. Eyes hurt, can’t look at anything. I also have the chills and a sore throat,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut as he reaches over to grab another blanket to throw on top of his legs.

“Are you laying down?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“Are you keeping up your fluids?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you taken any medicine or pain relievers?”

“Yeah.”

“This is very insightful,” she says with a hint of amusement. “Are you going to school tomorrow?”

“I don’t know yet. And sorry, it hurts to talk.”

“Then why did you call, Cass?” she asks, and her voice dips into something gentle. He’d be happier about her using a nickname if he didn’t feel like this, but it still sits warmly in his chest and he adjusts his grip on his phone.

“Don’t know. I thought you might make me feel better.”

There's another pause, but this time he can hear her softly sigh. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. Considering that this is partly my fault for making you come with me last--”

“Jyn--”

“Shh,” she says. “Text me in the morning whether or not you’re going to class. If you still don’t feel well, I’ll come over and make you some soup, okay?”

“Don’t you have to work?” he asks.

“I have Mondays off.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind,” she confirms. “You should get some sleep, it’ll do you some good.”

“What time is it?” he asks.

“8:37.”

“Ugh,” he says. He can’t even think about attempting to stay up until the time he’d usually go to bed. “I’m gonna pass out the second you hang up.”

“Good,” she answers, and he can hear her doing something in the background but he can’t make it out. “I’ll let you go, then. Let me know how you feel in the morning.”

He hums into the speaker. “Thanks, Jyn.”

“You’re welcome, see you soon.”

\--

His room is dark when he wakes up with his head pounding. He sniffles once, barely able to breathe through his nose now, so he lets his mouth hang open unattractively and rolls over so he can see his alarm clock.

It’s only a little past four in the morning, and at this time the light in his room almost looks blue--something like a dream, or time held in suspension. It looks a little like being drunk, and that might be the way his eyes start to water, making everything blurry and blue, and the lights from outside their building sit still in his blinds, dull white lines stacked on top of each other.

Cassian stumbles his way into the bathroom, he feels for the light switch but he gives up before making any serious effort to find it. In the dark, he grabs a tissue to blow his nose, but all of the motion disrupts his steadiness and he’s suddenly very dizzy. He doesn’t care about where he is, he just sits down on the toilet and rests his elbow on the sink counter, steadying himself while his head continues to pound away.

Miserable. This is miserable.

But eventually, and he isn’t sure how long it takes, he manages to blow his nose, squeezing his eyes shut against the way that it rattles his body, and he drags himself back to his room. He accidentally hits his hip against the dresser and hisses in pain. Flopping onto the bed, his pulls his blanket up around his shoulders and tucks it under his chin, shivering and shaking and curling up into the smallest thing he can make himself.

Thankfully, sleep comes fairly quickly after that.

\--

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _Just abandon me, there is no hope._

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _So dramatic. I’m packing up some things for you rn. I should be there in a half hour._

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _Good luck getting in, there’s no way I’m making it to the door._

**From: Jyn Erso**

_You can and you will. I believe in you._

\--

No, the couch is as far as he’s getting today. He’d be laying down right now if it weren’t for the amount of pillows keeping him propped up. He has two blankets on, one is wrapped tightly around his legs like a mummy, and the other is one that his grandmother crocheted for him when he was a kid, it’s blue and white and it’s wrapped over his head and around his shoulders. He’s effectively in a cocoon.

A warm, wonderful blanket cocoon.

“Need anything while I’m out?” Bodhi asks. He has his backpack on and his enormous philosophy book in his hand; it makes him look smaller than he actually is. “Cough medicine? Sudafed?”

Cassian sniffles a little, blinking up at him. “I don’t think so.”

He moves towards Cassian--warily, because he’s already insisted that he refuses to get sick--and looks him over with a small frown, like he’s inspecting him and Cassian’s failed to measure up. “Are you going to be okay here alone? I can get Mrs. Donovan to check up on you, I think she’s home today.”

Cassian shakes his head, which is truly a terrible decision on his part, and he grimaces in anticipation of what he’s going to say. “That’s okay, Jyn’s coming over soon.”

Bodhi just raises a brow.

“Please don’t say anything,” Cassian asks.

“Wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

“But if I was--”

“ _Bodhi,_ ” he whines.

“Okay, okay,” he relents. “I’m going now, I hope you feel better.”

“Thank you, have a good day at school.”

Bodhi smiles at him. “I’ll try.”

“Say hi to the outside world for me,” he calls out, using probably his last bits of energy.

“Will do,” Bodhi calls back, shutting the door behind him.

The apartment is empty, then, save for the sound of the television playing Dr. Phil. It’s focusing on toxic relationships within families, and there’s a woman accusing her son of trying to poison her at dinner. Cassian spares a second to consider paying attention to it but he mostly blocks it out, closing his eyes and snuggling further into his cocoon.

\--

He must fall asleep, because when he stirs, it’s to the sound of his phone buzzing on their coffee table.

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _I’m here_  
_..._  
_Casssssssss_  
_..._  
_I brought you soup pls let me in_  
_..._  
_omg_  
_..._  
_Cassian whatever your middle name is Andor_  
_..._  
_Come on it’s cold_  
_..._  
_I’m assuming you’re asleep but you still suck_

“Oh my God,” Cassian says to himself. He momentarily forgets his illness, and--still wrapped up in his blanket--races to the door. Her last text was sent only a minute ago, so he has to assume she hasn’t been out there for a long time, but still. He doesn’t care how much his head hurts or how breathing out of his mouth makes him feel a little nauseous, or even the way that his body aches: he races down the stairs as quickly as he can in his state, cursing the fact that they live on the third floor, and opens the front door of their building to a very dissatisfied Jyn Erso.

“Well,” she says, “don’t you look cozy.”

He makes a low noise in response, looking down at himself. He wearing his warmest wool socks and sweatpants, and he still has the blanket around his shoulders. “My middle name is Jeron.”

Her glare breaks into a smile, probably because of the way his voice sounds. “Good to know,” she says, and through his bleary vision he takes a good look at her, she’s bundled up in her coat and the tip of her nose is red. Her arms are wrapped around a large brown paper bag, and the sun is out, which is weird. It doesn’t feel like the sun should be out today when he feels like this. He needs dark overcast clouds, he needs the lights on in the morning, a certain heaviness in the air that would match the way he feels.

He doesn’t deny the fact that he’s dramatic when he’s sick.

“I’m so sorry, I fell asleep. Come in,” he says, a little more self conscious about his voice. It’s something deep and far away, nasally and entirely unattractive. He steps aside and she shakes her head at him without a word, following him up the stairs.

His head is absolutely throbbing as he calms down from the energy spike, and when they reach his floor he sees that he accidentally left their door open. He groans to himself, and inside K2 is watching the open space curiously. He meows loudly when Jyn enters, and while Cassian expects him to rub his little face against her legs, he just takes one look at her and scurries away towards Cassian’s room.

She looks up at him with raised eyebrows. “Friendly cat,” she remarks, and then her eyes watch him with a little more focus. “You know, you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” he says, and shuffles over to the couch, half collapsing onto it. “I feel pretty terrible. Make yourself at home, or whatever I’m supposed to say that would make you feel welcome.”

He watches her as she smiles to herself and looks around the apartment. She sets down the brown paper bag on their table and takes off her coat, hanging it on the hangar next to the door. He spares a little embarrassment for the half used tissues surrounding him and his complete and utter lack of manners that would undoubtedly upset his mother, but Jyn seems unphased. She just comes over to him and crouches down in front of him on the couch.

“When’s the last time you ate?” she asks, and this close he can see the way the light brushes against her pale skin. He eyelashes cast shadows across the tops of her cheeks when she blinks, and she’s not wearing any makeup so he can faintly make out freckles dotting the tops of her cheeks. She looks younger like this but still so pretty, and he notices that there’s a speck of brown in the green of her eyes. She’s watching him with all of her focus, as usual.

“Last night?” he guesses, because he knows he hasn’t had anything this morning but he doesn’t remember eating anything last night, either. He doesn’t mention that.

She reaches forward and pushes aside the blanket that’s covering his head, her cool hand presses flat against his forehead and it’s such a feeling, it’s such a relief that he actually closes his eyes. He hears her sigh before she takes away and he looks up to see her leaving his side. He’s left in a pathetic heap on the couch to watch her go into the kitchen.

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how hungry are you?” she asks.

“Like a 2,” he answers, squinting his left eye against the tv light. He’s propped up enough that he can see over the counter, and Jyn’s standing in front of his refrigerator with the doors wide open. She’s wearing a pale blue sweater, the ends of her hair brush her shoulders, and the light comes in from above the sink. It looks like a painting. Like this he could imagine her as a painting.

“How much water have you had to drink?” she asks, closing the door and turning her head back.

“Not sure.”

“Cassian Andor,” she says sternly, fully facing him. “You are the absolute _worst_ at taking care of yourself.”

She opens a few cabinets before she finds the one with all the glasses in it. She takes one out and fills it with water. Coming back into the room, she hands it to him. “Drink this,” she says, “and I’ll look around your kitchen for something for you to eat. I’d ask you if you’ve had any vitamins yet, but I think I already know the answer to that.”

It’s hard not to laugh as he sips the water, watching her over the lip of the glass. “Thank you,” he says, his voice echoes a little in the glass, and his throat is feeling better, at least. The water is cool and goes down smoothly.

She bites her bottom lip and leaves him again. On her way to the kitchen she says, “Let me know if Dr. Phil has that lady’s son arrested.”

This time he does laugh, and he chugs the rest of the water, leaning forward to set the glass on the coffee table. Snuggling back down into his blanket, he lets his eyes unfocus and the tv becomes a blurry image of shifting colors, where he can make out the shapes of people, vague and moving too quickly. He still listens to their voices, arguing and arguing and arguing, but then he doesn’t hear anything at all.

\--

Cassian wakes up again, disoriented, and the first thing he notices is that The Price is Right is on. He doesn’t remember changing the channel.

The second thing he notices--and this probably should’ve been the first--is a small weight on his legs. He lifts his head to see Jyn tucked in the space between his legs and the back of the couch. Her feet are resting on the coffee table, and her focus is on the television.

Like this she seems so simple. Soft. All the air in the room seems to spin, and he makes a low sound. “Jyn,” he says.

Her gaze hesitates for a second and then she looks over at him, smiling automatically. “You really are a baby, you know,” she says.

“Be nice to me,” he argues. “I’m sick.”

“Sorry, sick cookie. I made you toast before you fell asleep, so it might be a little soggy now, but I really think you should eat something.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” he says.

“I also brought over some vitamin C, you should have some of that, too.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Aren’t you worried about catching my cold?”

She shrugs. “I think I would’ve already gotten it by now, so I should be safe.”

And right, okay, he can’t argue with that.

“So what have I missed?” he asks. The tv is playing commercials right now, this one’s for a bathtub for elderly people so that they don’t have to step in and out of it. There’s a little door on the side of tub, and this might be the cold speaking, but Cassian doesn’t think that’s too bad of an idea for anyone, young or old.

“Well first of all, you’re lucky I’m here to take care of you, things would be pretty dire otherwise,” she says, then she nods at the television. “But they’ve just spun the big wheel for the final round, and this absolute moron went first, landed on 85, and decided to spin again. It was ridiculous.”

“Ugh,” he says. “Idiot.”

She laughs as the phone number and price for the safe bathtubs fades to black and the Price Is Right theme song begins to play. There’re two people excitedly clapping along, each standing behind a desk, and Drew Carey introduces the first showcase collection.

Cassian feels like he’s still dreaming watching the pretty blonde models wave their arms around a stereo system, which is perfect for the new Mercedes Benz it comes with.

“I would definitely pass this one,” Jyn says towards the end, when the guy--Jim--is clutching onto his podium like he’s going to lose consciousness.

“You think he can do better?” Cassian asks. “The next one’s probably like, a living room set. No one wants that.”

“No, but you never settle for a new car. They’ll make you pay for it for the rest of your life. And besides, I don’t need a car, that’s why I have you.”

He rolls his eyes, even though he thinks it’s really adorable. “Did you walk over here today?”

“Of course I did.”

“ _Of course I did_ ,” he repeats in a high pitched voice, only his congestion makes it sound absolutely awful. She hits his arm, but she’s laughing. On the tv, Jim decides to keep it and guesses $32,000 for the set. Both of them sit up straighter.

“That’s too high,” he says, much more passionately than he would ever expect to be over the Price is Right.

“It’s like he’s trying to lose,” Jyn says. “He’s almost as bad as that other guy.”

Cassian hums his agreement, and the second set is revealed. The first item is a brand new 60” television, and then the camera zooms out to reveal the living room set it goes with. Cassian sits up straighter while Jyn tilts her head back in laughter.

“I told you!” he says. “And I just want you to know that if I had the energy to get up right now, I’d do my gloating dance.”

She shakes her head. “I’d literally pay money to see that.”

And it might be funny, the two of them wholly engrossed in the Price is Right on a Monday morning. It might be funny, the two of them sitting on the couch, tucked close to one another but neither of them minding at all. It’s midmorning and Cassian never expected any of this--him and Jyn--but right now he can’t imagine wanting anything else.

Yeah, it might be funny, but at the same time it’s really, really not.

Because Cassian can barely breathe, but he’s still the happiest he’s been in a long time.

He turns his attention away from the tv and looks up at Jyn, and he can’t help it with her, the corners of his lips rise in a smile that is probably too soft, says too much. But she turns her head and looks back at him. She doesn’t look away.

\--

He blinks his eyes open again, in a haze of that post-nap delirium, to the sight of Jyn moving around the kitchen. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he watches her hair swish as she moves between the counter and over the stove, where there’s a pot he’s never seen before erupting with steam that pushes in front of the window and gets lost as it scatters and shakes apart.

There’s the sun and the ceiling lights glinting off the red pot on the stove, and it’s not as bright as it was earlier, so maybe he was asleep for a little while. The pot makes sizzling and bubbling sounds, and Cassian’s sure that if he could smell, it would fill the whole room the same way her presence does.

“Are you cooking?” he asks foolishly, because of course she is.

But it gets her attention, and she looks up from where she’s chopping something on the counter--he can’t see from here--and meets his gaze with a small smile. “I promised soup,” she says. “So I’m making you soup.”

“You’re the best,” he says, and it’s great because he means it, wholeheartedly, and he doesn’t feel self conscious saying it. He probably should, but he doesn’t. He’d meant to say something else but he can’t remember it right now and he’d rather just watch her, anyway, he’d rather stay right here.

Jyn smiles to herself, tipping her chin down a little as though she wants to hide it, and she’s scraping whatever was on the cutting board into the pot. He watches her stir for as long as he can before his eyelids swoop and linger closed again. He doesn’t want to fall asleep but he can’t help it. It’s the warmth of the apartment, the warmth of Jyn’s presence, and the way his cold makes him feel like he exists outside of himself.

Yeah, the warmth, the warmth, and the cold. The afternoon creeps in through the windows and it’s all a dream, it’s all something he’d make up, he thinks, if he wanted to.

But then he’s pulled under again, blurry and helpless.

\--

This time he’s determined to stay awake.

He actually sits up before Jyn notices him. She’s at the kitchen table, across from where Bodhi normally sits, and she has a paperback book in her hands. She looks up at him and turns it over to keep her page. “How are you feeling?” she asks.

And he’s sitting up, so his head rushes a little but he recovers quickly enough. “Okay,” he says, untangling his legs from the blanket. “I feel weird. I don’t know. What time is it?”

“1:14,” she answers. “Do you think you’re ready for some soup? It might be good to stay awake for longer than a few minutes this time.”

He half laughs. “Soup would be good.” As he stands he feels some of the weight of his head slip away. Sleep was definitely needed. He looks up to see Jyn move towards the kitchen, and she places a hand on his shoulder as she moves past him..

“Sit,” she says, and he has to watch her for a moment longer before he realizes that she’s pouring him a bowl of soup. He takes a seat across from the one she was sitting at, and glances at her book left on the table. _The Time Machine_.

“I hope I haven’t bored you to death,” he says, eyeing the book a little longer, except this time his eyes water as he daydreams. Distracted. His eyes unfocus and then refocus, but he looks up when she sets the bowl in front of him. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” she says, and she pats him on the head once before going around to the other side of the table and sitting down. “And I haven’t been too bored. You missed an episode of Days of Our Lives.”

“Was it any good?” he asks.

She tilts her head to the side like she’s considering it, and isn’t that a funny picture. Her hands idly find her book again, she scratches her nails lightly across its plastic cover, and she keeps her eyes on him. “As good as you can expect from a soap opera.”

“I didn’t know you were into that.”

“Yeah, well. You snore.”

“I’m sick,” he says plainly. “I can’t breathe out of my nose.”

“Really? I didn’t notice. Come on, eat your soup,” she says back. “It’s a family recipe. It’s worked wonders for me my whole life.”

Instead of answering he blows on the hot soup before spooning it into his mouth. He only chews for a second before he frowns, seeking out her gaze and looking at her helplessly.

“Something wrong?” she asks, and she’s smiling at first but then her eyebrows draw in with concern.

“I can’t taste it,” he says, and Jyn laughs a little. “Being sick is the worst.”

“Don’t worry, I made too much. You’ll still have some by the time you feel better.”

“Well I still appreciate it. And you know, Bodhi will be home soon, I’m sure he’ll enjoy it more than I can.”

She raises a brow. “Oh yeah? Is he in class?”

Checks the clock. “Yeah, he gets out at three thirty.”

She makes a face, and it’s quiet for a little bit save for the sounds of Cassian slurping his soup. If Jyn is even remotely attracted to him right now he’d be surprised. She doesn’t necessarily watch him, but she stays there and lets him eat uninterrupted. Then: “I think K2 is warming up to me.”

Cassian laughs because he forgot about that little incident earlier, huh. He looks up and Jyn motions her head towards the hall that leads to their bedrooms. K2 is just sitting there, watching them with his wide blue eyes.

“K2,” he says, then he makes a little ticking noise. “Come here, don’t be creepy.”

He hears Jyn laugh and he looks up because he likes the way she looks when she laughs. Glancing back, K2 has yet to move, and doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere any time soon.

Cassian shrugs. “He’s only been here a few days, maybe he isn’t used to people besides Bodhi and I.”

“He hung out in the kitchen with me while I was cooking. I don’t think he wants you to know he likes me.”

He looks between K2 and Jyn, they’re both watching him with those wide eyes, and he’d find it funnier if he didn’t have to sniffle his nose. He looks back to Jyn. “Well, now I don’t know who to believe.”

She raises a brow. “Maybe the girl who’s nursing you back to health?”

“Yeah, she’s okay,” he says, and he laughs at the way she pouts even though it makes him a little dizzy. His world spins and stops with his laugh, but he doesn’t mind.

Rolling her eyes, Jyn takes his mostly empty bowl into the kitchen. “Did you want some more or are you good for now?”

“I’m good for now, doc,” he says. “I think I’m feeling better already.”

“Yeah, you’re feeling something alright.”

“Delirium? Fear? Complete, all encompassing stress?”

“Stress?” she questions. “What are you stressed about?”

He tips his head back as she comes closer, and she looks interesting from this angle. “I have my accounting test tomorrow and I’ve barely studied. There’s also the fact that my eyes keep watering when I stare at anything for too long, so reading is kind of out of the question right now.”

The corners of her lips tilt down and she makes a small humming noise for a second before she glances around the apartment. “Do you have your book or something? I can help you if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Um. I made notecards the other day,” he says, and then he thinks of them, really. “But you’re not going to like them.”

She looks at him with a straight face for a long moment before it turns into disbelief. “You didn’t,” she says. Cassian watches her, and for a second he has to wonder how they got here. From the words _Happy Birthday_ to the low train lights and the rumbling of wheels, from that late afternoon at Baze and Chirrut’s house to here, at his and Bodhi’s dining room table. All the spaces in between, just this short amount of time, and the affection that stirs in his chest...

Yeah, it’s a lot.

He gets up, pausing to blow his nose in the bathroom, and grabs the fluorescent notecards off of his bureau. He spares a moment to look at his bed longingly; how much easier it would be to get back in, drift off, and wake up when his cold is completely gone. He knows that’s completely illogical, but some part of his brain supplies the dream while he leaves his room.   

“ _No_ ,” she says when he returns with them, and he lifts a brow as he hands them to her.

“You made me buy them,” he argues.

“I didn’t make you _use_ them,” she says as she takes them, flipping over the first one and looking up at him with a wide eyed expression. “I hope for your sake that you know most of this already.”

He hums to himself, shuffling over to the couch and resuming his earlier position. “Yes and no? Some of them, definitely. Others...not so much.”

“And your test is tomorrow?” she asks, settling in on the other side of the couch, and like this they’re facing each other. She tucks her feet under his leg and he throws his blanket over both of them, sharing the space in the middle.

“Yup.”

She watches him steadily, then looks down. Her bangs fall into her eyes and her sweater comes up around her wrists where she’s holding the cards and it’s such a sweet thing. Looking at her like this is such a sweet thing.

“What is an ‘S’ Corporation?” she asks.

“It’s a corporation that’s taxed like a partnership. It has to have less than 100 shareholders, and it’s protected by limited liability.”

“That’s the gist of it,” she says, and she flips to the next card. “God. These are hurting my eyes.”

“You have only yourself to blame,” he says with his face half smushed into the pillow. He has his eyes half closed now, only glancing up at Jyn and the way she mirrors him on the other side of the couch. Her hair fans out against the pillow and she has her head tilted to lean against the back cushion. When he closes his eyes again he tries to keep that image there but it doesn’t work. It just fades into darkness.

“Don’t fall asleep,” she says, and she moves her foot to nudge his leg. He’s slow to smile but he does, not bothering to open his eyes, and he shifts his weight so that she can fit her legs better next to his.

It’s nice.

“No, this feels good,” he says. “I’ll stay awake, but it feels good to have my eyes closed.”

He hears her shuffling the cards. “Whatever you say.”

And they stay like that for a short while. Cassian lets his head sink into blackness with just the sound of her voice bringing him back to life each time. She reads him his notecards and for the most part it helps, but some cards leave him blank and empty. It’s frustrating for him to try and wade through the heaviness of his head, and the more he tries the more exhausted and overheated he starts to feel.

It doesn’t help that breathing out of his mouth makes it seem like he’s using twice the amount of energy he has just to breathe, and it doesn’t help that he has the chills running up his arms. All of his skin starts to feel sensitive to the touch of fabric surrounding him and he shifts into a different position. His eyes still water even though they’re closed, and it makes his eyelashes itchy.

“Maybe we should take a break,” he suggests when Jyn asks him what a Form 8-K is and he can’t even try to recall that information. He chances opening his eyes to see her exactly as he left her, except now she’s looking at him instead of the notecards.

“Too much?” she asks.

“Yeah--I just--I think I should lay down,” he says.

She doesn’t mask her worry, but she nods. “Do you want me to make you some tea? I can bring it in for you.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” he says, but as he sits up his head just feels too heavy and he has to rest his elbows on his knees and hold his head in his hands for a second. He feels Jyn’s hand touch his forearm.

“Take your time,” she says, and despite the way that his head feels, he gives her a little nod. She leaves him then to pull a mug out of one of the cabinets, and as he moves towards his bedroom he can see her putting the kettle on.

He’s laying down, wrapped completely in his blankets because his whole body has the chills and he feels like he should be shaking, he’s not, but he should be. It’s like he’s threatening to fall apart, he’s just on the precipice, but it’s not quite enough to tip him over the edge. It’s something he tucks inside as he adjusts his head against the pillow, and he wishes that he could breathe out of his nose because he likes the way the detergent makes it smell. Something sweet but warm, and it always reminds him of home; of his mom and the way that she’d wash all of their bedding on Wednesday mornings.

Oh shoot, he wishes his mom was here right now.

But, you know, Jyn is comforting in a way that’s different from his mom. She comes into the room with a mug of tea and sets it on his nightstand, right in front of his crumpled up tissues--which is disgusting, but he can’t find it in him to care.

“Jyn,” he says, and the blinds are still down so the room has such a strange milky gray quality to it. It makes him feel even further away; confusion crowds him in and there isn’t anything he can do about it except wait until he feels better.

Jyn sits down in the space next to him at the edge of the bed, rubbing her hand across his shoulder. It eases some of the tension. “Yeah?”

“I hate this,” he says, and she cracks a smile but it doesn’t fill her whole face the way it usually does.

“I know,” she mumbles, like she’s genuinely sad about it, and her hand moves from his shoulder to the blanket wrapped around his head. She pulls it back and places her cool palm against his forehead and then into his hair, combing it out of his face even though he’s a little sweaty. She frowns. “Poor boy.”

Cassian just rumbles a low sound against her touch, drifting at the way her nails feel combing against his scalp. It’s such a lovely distraction--to focus on how good it is to have her with him right now instead of how his body feels like it’s failing him.

And if this is it--if this is what falling for her feels like--heart full, warm and comforting, and the feeling of being completely surrounded but ignoring the way out. If this is what it’s like...

Then Cassian might be in trouble.

He blinks his eyes open, one side of her mouth tilts up, and she pulls her hand back. “Try and rest, I’ll be here when you get up,” she promises.

“You don’t have to,” he says, and he doesn’t know if he means that she doesn’t have to stay until he wakes up, or if he doesn’t want her to leave his side at all. It doesn’t matter, because she gets up anyway.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m happy to do it.”

He wants to protest further, ask her to stay and comfort him, but it’s a dangerous thought. He imagines her settling into the space next to him, how she would fit into his arms and continue to brush the hair away from his forehead. How nice would that be? He knows he shouldn’t, he told himself he could leave it alone, but how absolutely nice would that be?

She squeezes his leg once and leaves, leaving the door open a little behind her, and a line of light stretches into the room. Cassian closes his eyes against it, letting it fade until his mind drifts like silent snow.

Yeah, milky gray and one glimpse of light, the echo of her touch, and then nothing at all.

It fades and it fades and it fades.

\--

Cassian wakes up to the sound of the front door opening--he rolls over, swallowing heavily at the feeling of the action, and checks the time. It’s a little after four--meaning Bodhi must’ve just gotten home--and he rolls back over slowly, unable and unwilling to call on the energy to get up right away.

“Hi,” he hears Bodhi say, so Jyn must still be here. Their voices carry easily into the bedroom since his door is still open and though he knows he shouldn’t eavesdrop, there’s not much he can do until he gets up.

“Hello,” Jyn says back.

There’s some shuffling, and that’s probably Bodhi setting down his backpack and taking off his coat. “It’s been a while, yeah?”

And then, surprisingly: “We’re not going to play that game, B, are we?”

“What game?” he hears him ask, and there’s a touch of annoyance in his voice. It hits Cassian, right there, that it never occurred to him to question why Jyn and Bodhi hadn’t seen each other in so long, especially in a town like Whitebridge. He can’t imagine the history that exists between them.

“You know,” she says, “the one where we catch up like old friends, pretend like nothing happened, and move on because of Cassian.”

There’s a long pause, long enough that Cassian thinks he can no longer hear them, but Bodhi’s voice picks up again. “Then what else can I say?”

“There isn’t anything,” she answers. “That’s the problem. There’s nothing to say about any of it.”

“I would’ve stayed, you know.”

“Yeah,” she says, and something doesn’t sit right with Cassian when he faintly hears her say, “I know.”

After that he can only catch the sense of their words and not what they’re actually saying, and he decides that he should probably get up before he overhears something he really shouldn’t. It’s a struggle at first--he didn’t realize how many blankets were piled on top of him--and he has to blow his nose for a solid two minutes before he finally stumbles out into the hallway, blinking heavily against the afternoon light.

Jyn and Bodhi are sitting at the table, and they’re watching him with the same look on their faces. It’s open curiosity mixed with concern, and he has this sense that he interrupted something important but it’s immediately dropped.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Jyn says. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” he says, and he shrugs. “Hi Bodhi.”

Bodhi nods at him, and he has his philosophy book on the table in front of him but it isn’t opened. His hands fidget with the corner and he smiles. “You look better than you did this morning.”

Cassian winks at Jyn. “It must’ve been the soup.” He sits down at the head of the table, whatever middle ground this is between them.

“Or the fact that you slept for like, ten hours today,” she says. “You’re like a koala.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s not; koalas are cute.”

“Maybe not a koala, then,” Bodhi suggests, and he smiles broadly as Cassian pouts. He looks up to see Jyn watching Bodhi; she cracks a small smile and breathes out a short laugh.

“I was going to say a sloth, but those are cute too. Are there any animals that get an excessive amount of sleep and aren’t cute?”

Bodhi seems to consider this. “Bats sleep a lot, don’t they?”

“Hm,” she hums to herself, looking down at the table with her brow furrowed. The afternoon lights play off of the curves of her face, and Cassian can’t look away. “Cass, do you think bats are cute?”

“Why does my opinion matter?”

“Because it determines whether or not you’re like a bat.”

“I’m not a bat.”

“So that would imply that they _are_ cute,” Bodhi says, and he has that thoughtful expression he usually has whenever he talks philosophy, so Cassian braces for impact. “Right? If Jyn set the parameter that whatever you are isn’t cute, and that your opinion on whether or not they are cute determines what you are, then if you say you’re not a bat that would mean that bats are cute.”

Cassian groans while Jyn laughs aloud. “I’m so glad we figured that out,” he says.

“Me too,” she agrees. “Although I don’t think bats are actually cute, if I’m honest.”

Bodhi makes a small noise. “Have you seen their faces? They’re cute.”

“No, those wings...and their teeth are terrifying.”

“What’s wrong with their teeth?”

She shakes her head. “They’re like, these creepy little needle teeth. I’ll look it up right now, and you’ll see.”

Cassian isn’t surprised that she actually takes her phone out to look it up. She slides it across the table towards Bodhi, who picks it up and smiles. “Look how cute that is!”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks.

“Nothing,” he argues. “Look at its eyes, they’re so sweet.”

“Sweet?” she exclaims. “Look at its teeth!”

“It’s cute,” he states firmly, sliding her phone back towards her.

“It’s disturbing.”

“What’s more disturbing,” Cassian interrupts, “is this entire conversation.”

Jyn watches him for a moment before she breaks into a wide smile. “If I said you could be a koala, would that make you feel better?”

“Maybe.”

Bodhi pretends to look him over. “Well he is pretty cute.”

Jyn joins in the scrutiny, she leans forward on the table and rests her chin on her hand. “I guess you could call him cute.”

And that doesn’t mean anything to Cassian. Nope, not at all.

“You guess?”

“No, I know,” and she winks at him. “It’s in the eyes, right Bodhi?”

“Right.”

“Both of you are ridiculous and confusing,” Cassian says. “I need my tea.”

“Did you drink the one I made you earlier?” Jyn calls to him as he goes to fetch his mug from the bedroom, which is still full so no, he kind of completely forgot about it.

“Sorry,” he says when he comes back. “I fell asleep before I could. It’s okay, I’ll just reheat it.”

She makes a face. “No way, that’s been sitting out for nearly three hours. I can make you a new cup.”

With that she takes the mug out of his hands and sets about making a new cup of tea. Cassian leans back against the counter and watches her for a moment before glancing over at Bodhi, who raises his brows once and grins freely at him. Cassian shakes his head once, sharply, and it makes him dizzy but it’s worth it for the way that Bodhi rolls his eyes at him.

After the kettle is on, Jyn turns to him. “I should probably get going after this, I promised my aunt I’d make dinner tonight.”

“You’ve already done so much today,” Cassian says. “At least let me drive you home.”

She lifts one shoulder in response. “It’s not a big deal, but there’s no way I’m letting you drive. You need to rest.”

“It’ll take five minutes, I think I can handle it.”

“Cassian.”

“Yes?” he asks, and he smiles at the way her face flattens into something serious.

“Cassian.”

“Jyn.”

“I’m going to walk home,” she says.

And then he has an idea: “Maybe could Bodhi drive you.”

Bodhi looks up. “What?”

“You have your learner’s permit, right? I trust you.”

“Yeah, I don’t,” Jyn says as the kettle goes off. “Plus that’s illegal. I appreciate the effort, and it was a mighty effort, but I’ll be okay, Cass.”

He watches her tie the tea bag to the handle of his mug and she opens the refrigerator to take out a carton of milk. There’s a rush of fondness that moves through his chest as she pours just a dash of in and adds a touch of sugar, just like he did the other night. He can’t help the way his lips curl into a smile.

“Thank you,” he says in a small voice when she brings it to him. It’s meant for just her, even though Bodhi can probably hear him from where he’s still sitting at the table, but Cassian doesn’t mind much. She smiles up at him with the softest look in her eye, and he’s absolutely hopeless. When it comes to her, he’s absolutely gone.

“I should get going,” she says. “I have an endless walk ahead of me and no one will drive me home.”

“You’re funny,” he says, but he follows her to the door where she puts on her coat and he hates this, he doesn’t want her to leave. He looks down at her, at the edge of her jaw, up around her mouth, and the tip of her nose. If he could just remember these little details, just the way the light touches her like she’s something dear, then maybe he can say goodbye without it pulling him apart.

“Bye Bodhi,” she says, and he smiles at her, so Cassian’s not really sure _what_ he overheard earlier because they seem just fine now. When she turns her attention to him he feels like his whole body is frozen, but she comes close and this is the best way to warm it up. She wraps her arms around his neck and he holds her tightly around her waist. Chest to chest, he’s completely surrounded, yeah, and he’s still not looking for a way out.

She doesn’t break away when she says, “I left the extra soup in a big tupperware container in the fridge.”

“Thank you,” he says, smiling against the dip between her neck and shoulder. “For everything. You’re the best.”

“You’ll feel better soon,” she says, and this time she backs out of his embrace.

He nods, and maybe he pouts a little. “I’ll miss you.”

She smiles and looks down. When she looks back up at him there’s that knowing look again, just like that first night or in the car, and Cassian still doesn’t know what it means. “I’ll miss you too. Good luck on your test tomorrow, okay? Text or call or whatever--you know.”

“Okay,” he says, and she looks back behind her when she opens the door, giving him a little wave before she heads down the stairs and Cassian feels it all: the weight of his cold and the weight of her leaving.

Yeah, he’s definitely in trouble.

When he looks back at the kitchen, he sees Bodhi holding K2. He’s leaning against the counter where Cassian just was, and he smirks.

Cassian, with his nasally, congested voice, mumbles, “Please don’t say anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did any of you find it strange that Jyn and Bodhi hadn't seen each other in so long? And I'm allowing Cassian to overlook their ~conversation~ because of his cold, otherwise that boy better be questioning things.
> 
> Also I could promise certain things for the next chapter, but that would be wildly unfair considering how long it takes me to post :)


	6. The Blind Heights II

**To: Jyn Erso  
** _I forgot everything I know about accounting._

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _You did not, you’re just scared_  
_..._  
_Baby._

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _Wow. Super helpful._

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _You’re welcome!!_  
_..._  
_I did not burn my eyes out for nothing, you go in there and ace this test. I know you can, pal._

 **To: Jyn Erso** _**  
** This is why you’re my favorite. _

**From: Jyn Erso  
** _:) :) :)_

\--

Cassian sniffles once before opening the door to the classroom. It’s mostly full save for his spot next to Leia, who’s bundled in a thick white turtleneck sweater. Her hair is pulled back into a long braid and she doesn’t even look up at Cassian when she says, “We need to talk.”

“Seriously?” he asks, and she looks over him with a smile.

“Are you free after this?”

He glances up at where the professor is rifling through a folder at the front of the room. He tilts his head towards Leia. “Yeah, and I’m feeling great, thanks for asking.”

She gives him an unimpressed look, and that’s the end of their conversation because the tests are passed between hands from the front of each row towards the back. Cassian accepts his from the guy in front of him--Brian or Brent, Cassian can never remember--and looks over the first page while he holds the rest of the tests behind him for the next person to take. He blinks heavily at the black and white text, and after he writes his name he has to reread the first question several times just to understand what it’s asking.

It’s like all the pressure rushes to his face as he looks down at the paper, and all he’s really trying to remember is the way Jyn’s voice sounded when she asked him about corporations and liabilities, but the answers are slow to come to him and he has to take his time and focus on each one in a way that he doesn’t usually have to.

Leia, on the other hand, is speeding through the test. He can see her in his peripheral, jotting down answers like if she doesn’t do it as fast as possible she’s going to lose the information altogether. Cassian’s still on the second question when she flips to the second page.

For a while it’s just the sound of the clock ticking away in the corner and the way that the pencil scratches against the paper. There’s stray sounds of people using their calculators, and the professor types loudly on the computer at his desk, but it blends into the silence of the room.

Yeah, a silence full of sound. Cassian’s eyes are staring, unfocused, out the window when he hears Leia get up to pass in her test at the front of the room. She nods at him once before she leaves, the sound of the door disrupts that same silence, and Cassian turns back to the window.

This time he focuses on it. It’s not an inspiring view: it’s just the parking lot, but with his head feeling the way that it does, it’s a much needed distraction from the test still sitting underneath his hands. He still has a page and a half to do, but luckily he can write some semi coherent paragraphs for the few short answers that he has left, and the last page is just matching vocabulary to its definition, so he pushes himself to finish. The second he hands it in he pulls out his phone.

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _It went okay I guess. Thank you for helping, it would’ve been worse w/o you_

Leia is waiting on a bench across from him, and her head is tipped down towards her phone but she looks up at the sound of the classroom door opening. The rest of the hallway is silent and empty; warm and yellow from the lights, and the walls look pale aside from the red stripe painted along the top edge of the ceiling.

“How’d you do?” she asks, and Cassian’s phone buzzes, so he glances at it quickly.

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _I’ll take full responsibility for your grade._

When he looks up he just shrugs. “I’m guessing nowhere near as well as you did.”

“Jyn?” she asks, glancing at the phone that he’s about to put in his back pocket and then back at him.

“Come on,” he says, shaking his head. “Let’s go to the Juice Box.”

She walks beside him and she just barely comes up to his shoulder, which means that she’s shorter than Jyn. He finds that strange, because she always seems so much bigger, and she doesn’t say anything as they walk down the stairs, but then: “You really like her, don’t you?”

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” he counters, holding the door open for her, and he has to squint against the daylight that floods through the open space.

She walks outside and keeps going without him, so he has to take a few extra steps to catch up. It’s warmer outside than it has been lately. November is such a funny thing, from the aching cold to the sun returning its warmth, back and forth; unpredictable.

“Jyn’s just a friend,” he insists as they take a left to head up to the main road.

“See, you say that,” Leia says, “but then you send me a picture from the two of you on your date last weekend--”

“It wasn’t--”

“Spare me. I also heard that she spent the entire day at your place yesterday.”

Cassian frowns to himself, half staring at the sidewalk ahead of them. “Where did you hear that?”

“Does it matter?” she asks, and he thinks _yes,_ it absolutely does.

He sighs as he looks over at her. “Why are you so interested?”

“Believe it or not, Cassian, I do care about you.”

“I know you do,” he says, “but there’s nothing to say about Jyn and I, we just get along really well. And besides, she’s the one who sent that picture to you.”

She raises a brow. “Interesting.”

“Please don’t do that to me.”

Her hand finds his bicep and they stop walking altogether. Leia looks up at him, and there’s a level of scrutiny there that he’s not entirely comfortable with. “Come on, what’s up?” she asks.

“Nothing,” he says, and starts walking again. “Except for that fact that I’m still, you know, _sick._ ”

“I didn’t realize that also meant super dramatic.”

“They go hand in hand, really.”

Leia steps on a leaf that crunches loudly under her foot. Cassian doesn’t really want to talk about Jyn, but at the same time she’s all he really wants to talk about, so like, he doesn’t understand himself; he doesn’t know how Leia can expect to either.

“Hey,” she says quietly. “It was a cute picture.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, and they both let the conversation drift for a minute as they walk up the main road. It’s never too busy but today seems to be an exception, with all the cars that rush by and make him feel like he’s standing still. The light filters in through the half-filled trees and Cassian thinks about the picture saved to his phone. Lately he’s found himself going back to it, just to see the way their heads tip towards each other and the way their smiles stretch across their faces. It might be the softest thing he knows and he already misses that night, he already misses the feel of her hand in his and the way she looked drinking his tea. Is that weird? That he misses her when she was with him last night?

“It’s just not like that with Jyn,” he says, and he knows that his voice sounds withdrawn enough to give everything away, but Leia’s known this whole time, hasn’t she?

“But it could be,” she says, confirming his suspicion.

“I really don’t know, Leia.”

She shakes her head, but they step up to the glass door at the Juice Box. Leia goes in first, and the place is new but it feels worn. There’s old window shutters along the counter and fresh herbs grow in little colorful pots on a shelf next to the blenders. Cassian has to focus in order to read the menu because the drinks are written in chalk and following the scripted letters is agitating his growing headache.

He offers to buy Leia’s drink, but she gives him a look and that’s the end of that. They order separately, but they stand together at the other end of the bar with the blenders echoing loudly into the room (it probably wasn’t the best idea to come here). He suggests they sit at a table towards the front of the shop, and it’s next to the window, but all they can see are the cars parked on the street in front of them and a few people passing by.

It’s funny, because he still considers himself a stranger to this town, but he recognizes a lot of faces, even if he doesn’t know their names. Stray leaves drift across the sidewalk and Cassian looks back to Leia, who has one hand around her plastic cup--he doesn’t know what she ordered, but it’s green--and her other hand rests on the table.

“One last thing about Jyn,” she says, and then she presses her lips together in hesitation. “I don’t think she would spend all this time with you if she was just messing around.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can trust her,” she says, which kind of feels completely opposite of what Bodhi’s been saying to him since the morning after he met her.

Which reminds him of yesterday, when he overheard Jyn and Bodhi’s conversation. The juxtaposition of that and how they were when he spent time with them at the table doesn’t seem right. He lets his eyes unfocus as he daydreams out the window, and he wonders if this is something he should question or not--if it’s right to ask Leia about it.

He gives in. “What do you know about Jyn and Bodhi?”  

Leia watches him closely for a moment before she answers, “Depends. What are you really asking?”

“Were they in a relationship?”

“No,” she says definitively. “Never.”

There’s some relief at that, though he still frowns down at the table. “But something happened between them?”

“Something happened, yes, but I don’t know what.”

“What do you mean?”

She lets out a long breath and he can see her eyes drift towards the window in thought. “It was so random--it was our senior year of high school. One day they were fine and the next, nothing. They stopped talking completely. The only times I’ve seen them interact since are at parties when they’re drunk. Even then...I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“But they were close?”

“God, yeah,” she says, and she smiles. “One year they sang a duet at the school talent show. It was the worst thing I’ve ever heard.

Cassian laughs. “Please tell me someone recorded that.”

“I could probably track it down.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he says, and he pauses to take a long sip of his drink, delighting in the fact that he can actually taste it--all sweet strawberry and mango, and the coolness of it settles nicely in his stomach. “The thing is, Bodhi came home while Jyn was over yesterday.”

Leia immediately perks up. “Really?”

“They were...fine,” he says, stopping himself from going into detail. As much as he trusts Leia, small town gossip has proved itself relentless.

“Really?” she says again.

He nods.

“Maybe they were able to look over their issues for your sake.”

 _You know, the one where we catch up like old friends, pretend like nothing happened, and move on because of Cassian_.

Is that what they agreed to?

The whole thing makes his headache worse. The idea that he doesn’t really know what’s going on consistently sits in the back of his head, and it’s getting old. Cassian just shrugs a shoulder and says, “Maybe.”

Leia watches him, and he doesn’t like how she looks at him with sympathy. “Anyway, Luke and I are having a little party Friday night, you and Bodhi should come.”

“Sounds good.”

There’s a sly smile playing on her lips, and he knows that’s never a good thing with Leia. “Jyn might be there.”

Cassian rolls his eyes. “I said it sounds good.”

“Just making sure.”

So of course he has to ask: “What about Han?”  

She snorts. “What about Han?”

He looks at her very seriously, but he can’t help the way the corners of his lips rise in a smile. “Will he be there?”

“I don’t know, why?”

He raises his brows because seriously? “It’s only fair.”

“Oh come on, don’t make me talk about him.”

“Why not?”

“Because he gets on my nerves,” she says, and as much as she can play cool about so many things, she always seems to fidget when it comes to the topic of Han Solo. Her eyes don’t waver from Cassian’s, but it’s too much, it’s too focused, and it has the opposite effect of what she’s trying to do.

“You like him,” Cassian says.

“I do not.”

“Leia.”

She sighs, and she glares at him before she shakes her head and smiles. “It’s always when I think that maybe it’s not such a bad idea, or maybe he isn’t as annoying as I think he is, that he does something stupid, or we argue. If anything were to happen between us, it would be a disaster.”

“So you do like him,” Cassian suggests.

She looks down at the table. Her hand fiddles idly with the lid of her cup, pushing the straw against the plastic edge. When she looks up at him, she smirks. “I have to go to class.”

“Really?” he asks. “You should answer my question first.”

She shakes her head again and stands up, pushing each arm into the sleeves of her coat. “Nope, I can’t be late. Dr. Akbar has a very strict attendance policy.”

“Hm,” he hums to himself, and squints at her. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Whatever, I’ll see you Thursday,” she says, and she gets up. He watches her throw away her cup and when she leaves she walks past the window, waving at him from the outside. Cassian narrows his eyes at her, but he waves back and takes another sip while he watches her figure shrink in the distance.

\--

The next day Cassian finds himself laying on Baze and Chirrut’s living room floor. He and Baze decided that since he missed class on Monday, it would be a good idea for him to come over, catch up on what he missed, and work on their presentation. Which makes sense.

What doesn’t make sense is why he’s on the floor.

He doesn’t even really know when it happened. He’s stretched out on his back next to the couch, right below Baze and Chirrut, who are cuddled up on one end. It’s cute, Cassian supposes. He watches the way they naturally fit next to each other, the way their bodies know where to make room for one another, and how each touch is casual and seemingly subconscious--it’s just what they do. It’s cute in a way that definitely does not make him jealous.

Nope, not at all.

Except, hey, his cold has moved to his chest, so while he has a loud, loose cough, he can actually breathe out of his nose again.

(It’s the little things.)

“So you don’t own a car, but you know how to drive, right?” he asks them both. He has his hands crossed over his chest and the ceiling is the same color as the walls, which he finds strange. They don’t even have the tv on, they’re literally just sitting in the living room and it should be funny but it feels too strange. Cassian feels like he should be high right now.

“Well I’m blind,” Chirrut says, so matter of factly that Cassian snorts out an unattractive laugh that has him coughing into the back of his hand. The other rests on his stomach and he can feel the way the muscle jumps with each movement.

“Sorry man,” he says. “I forget sometimes.”

“One could argue that there are different ways of seeing.”

“I used to drive,” Baze says, ignoring Chirrut--which tends to happen whenever he brings up something spiritual. “Back when the farm was still running. I had a truck, and I’d transport just about anything between counties.”

“And by anything, you mean junk. You were a junk man.”

“It was a good job.”

Cassian hums to himself, trying to picture that. “How long have you two lived in Whitebridge?”

“That was right after we moved here, so about sixteen years?” Chirrut says, confirming with Baze, and continues, “We used to take Jyn sometimes, she would sit between us in the front seat of the truck and talk our ears off.”

Baze laughs a little next to him. “She’s like our little sister.”

Cassian smiles at that, trying to picture it. Some part of him wishes he was apart of a community like that, but he’s happy that Jyn has that, that she’s so obviously loved by these people.

“So what happened to the truck?” he asks.

“The farm shut down,” Baze answers. “Chirrut opened his yoga studio and I worked odd jobs before eventually going back to school. We didn’t need it and it wasn’t in the best condition anyway, so we decided to get rid of it.”

“Don’t you feel trapped?”

“Don’t we all?” Chirrut suggests.

Cassian sits up, leaning his elbow on the free space on the couch next to them. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he continues, “I think we trap ourselves with our thoughts. We limit and doubt ourselves, and we criticize or self-destruct. There are different ways to feel trapped; it doesn’t necessarily have to be a tangible thing.”

And Cassian thinks about that, laying back down so he can stare at the ceiling again.

Yeah, he really has to think about that.

\--

Fluorescent lights are still a strange concept during the day.

The whole store glows from the inside out. It’s overcast today, so it doesn’t seem as cold and harsh, but rather warm and strangely comforting. Jyn’s not behind any of the cash registers, but he can see her stacking bags of chips in the far aisle from the door.

“Hey Jane!” he calls out, and Jyn, to his delight, looks up. He comes closer. “I can’t believe you answer to that.”

She glances down at her nametag before she looks up at him. “I recognized your voice, idiot. It doesn’t sound as ridiculous as it did the other day. Feeling better?”

“Much,” he says. “Bodhi and I have been living off of your soup, it’s delicious.”

She places another bag on the shelf and pushes aside the box, smiling to herself. “I’m glad.”

And this is funny, because he smiles back and it’s a just moment, it’s just a second that they’re smiling at each other, but it feels so heavy. He looks down at her lips, just to see the way that they stretch across her face, and then back up at her eyes.

“So what are you doing here?” she asks.

“Well,” he says. “I need some overpriced cough medicine and I’m between classes, so I figured I’d come visit.”

"Oh yeah? Lucky for you, I can show you where it is," she says, and then, "Come on." He follows her down the aisle towards the back of the store, right where the pharmacy desk is. It's weird to be back here like this, because even though the store is exactly as it was last week, it feels completely different this time. Their relationship is completely different this time, and Cassian knows he wouldn't have it any other way.

And maybe it’s just hard to explain, but everything is changing and becoming normal in a new way.

“Is this going to be our Thursday thing?” she asks on their way.

“What do you mean?”

“Well you were here last Thursday, and you’re here today. Should I expect you next week as well?”

“I’d say it’s probable.”

They stop at a shelf stocked with loads of boxes in varying colors and shapes, and she holds out her hands in a little ‘ta-da’ motion. He stares at her for a second before he snorts, covering his laugh with his fist. She drops her hands and glares at him, but then she grabs a green and white box off of the shelf and holds it out for him to take. “This is the most expensive one we have.”

“Yeah, no,” he says after he sees the price sticker, and puts it back where she got it from. “Is there a really cheap one? You know, like maybe it’s not that legit and might give me weird side effects. I’m willing to risk it.”

She hums to herself and inspects the shelf again. “First the index cards and now this; you should realize that we also sell normal things here.”

“Do we have to go over the index card thing again?”

“Listen,” she says, and he laughs because she’s trying to play serious but it’s not working, the corners of her lips rise and she has to take a second to stop herself from laughing before she continues. “I’m worried about my eyes, Cassian. I think those cards might’ve done permanent damage.”

He leans in close, and like this their faces are only inches apart. “They look fine to me,” he says. “Perfect, actually.”

She punches his arm weakly, but she doesn’t back away, and that feels important, that she stays. “Charmer.”

He wants to stay like this, but he turns away from her because he has to cough. It’s loud and wracks through his entire body, it takes a long time to be done, and he looks over at Jyn with a defeated smile. “I’m getting there.”

“This is a weird question,” she says, and Cassian shifts between his feet and places a hand on his chin. “But can you smoke when you’re sick? Or does that make it worse?”

“I want to,” he answers, “but I can’t because it feels awful, especially with my cough right now.”

She raises a brow. “Maybe you could stop altogether? You know, even after your cold is gone.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” he says, but she nods plainly. It’s honest in a way that they usually aren’t when they’re joking around, and it twists something in Cassian’s stomach because maybe he doesn't know whether or not she’s attracted to him, but she obviously cares. He smiles at her, just a soft little thing with his lips pressed together. “We’ll see.”

She nods again, but this time she turns her head towards the shelf again and hands him a different box. “This one is offbrand, but it should do the trick.”

“Thank you,” he says, taking it from her. “I’m just gonna--yeah.”

“Okay,” she says, and she nods towards the front of the store. “Do you need anything else or do you want me to ring you up?”  

“This is all I came here for, unless you’re going to try and sell something else.”

She tilts her head to the side for a moment in thought, then cracks a smile. “Nah, not today. I’ll find you something good for next Thursday.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to it,” he says, and they walk side by side towards the cash registers at the front of the store. Luke isn’t there today, instead there’s a tall guy with thick glasses on, and he isn’t hiding the fact that he’s watching them openly. Jyn slips behind the little gate that separates the counter from the store and logs onto the computer.

Cassian watches her before his eyes catch the titles of a magazine cover next to the cash register, and when he reaches for his wallet he asks, “Are you going to Leia’s party tomorrow night?”  

“I’m planning on it. You?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

She smiles. “Good.”

He smiles back. “Good.”

The machine at the cash register prints out his receipt and she puts it in the bag for him, sliding it across the counter.

“Thank you,” he says as he takes it. He watches her for a second before suggesting, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

She nods, but there's a moment of hesitation before she says, "Hang on." The little gate swings open again as she passes through it, and she comes around the side and leans up, wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms automatically envelop her around her middle, and he rests his head against hers.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says. “Good luck in class.”

When she pulls away, Cassian feels like his whole body is empty. He looks down at her and smiles, but it’s only in the edges of his lips. He looks at her big green eyes and the soft pout of her lips, and he knows. _He knows._

He’s never going to get over it.

\--

The mild weather lasts through Friday evening. Bodhi and Cassian are walking to the Skywalker’s house and it’s such a nice feeling. The sunlight bends through the tree branches and between houses, tired and golden. Their shadows stretch to the side, making them long and alien-like and Cassian likes it. It smells like crushed leaves and a little bit like smoke, and he draws in a long breath, ignoring the itch to cough.

There’s this softness he finds in the moment, some kind of gentle embrace of the evening. Yeah, there’s Bodhi and the sound of their footsteps against the sidewalk, the small town closeness that envelops them both, and the absolute love he has for the way that the clouds light up from below, echoing shades of pale orange and yellow against the fading blue sky.

Neither of them have spoken much since they left their apartment. Much like Halloween, Bodhi assured him that it wouldn’t be right to drive there and Cassian had no reason to argue with that this time.

So the silence stretches on, but Cassian is thinking about Bodhi and Jyn, and what could've come between them. If Leia was telling him the truth and they aren't as comfortable around each other as they seemed on Monday, then it must've been bad, right? People don't stop talking to each other over one fight.

“Bodhi?”

“Yeah?”

He hesitates. There’s a soft smile playing at the corners of Bodhi’s lips, his shoulders are relaxed, and the breeze pushes the few strands of hair that don’t reach his ponytail into his face. It seems so gentle; it’s too soft and warm, and Cassian doesn’t want to bring up something that would disrupt this moment. He doesn’t want to pressure him to talk about something that would upset him and probably (definitely) ruin the ease of the evening.

So he lets go of the desire, knocking his shoulder against Bodhi’s. As curious as he is, he knows asking about it wouldn’t do either of them any good right now. Bodhi looks over at him with a question in his eye and Cassian just smiles. “Love you, man.”

Bodhi rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

\--

The Skywalker house is only slightly bigger than Jyn’s, but it has a second storey and it’s bright blue with a white door. The flowerbeds out front are mostly filled with dead flowers, while the rest sit sunny and open under the light that filters out through the windows.

Inside, there’s a small crowd of people in a living room that lays beyond the entry. Cassian recognizes most of them but there’s still a few that he’s never seen before. He can see Baze and Chirrut at the far end of one of the couches, and Leia is talking to that same guy he saw yesterday at the drugstore.

They must be late because there’s a certain level of noise that only happens when a group of people are drunk. Cassian and Bodhi share a look before going into the living room, and it’s just a second later that a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind--which scares him half to death. He looks down to see two slender, pale hands clutching his shirt.

“Cassian Andor!” and that’s Jyn’s voice. He laughs in surprise, twisting his head so he can see her, and she looks up at him with wide glassy eyes.

“Are you drunk?” he asks. Her hands are still clutching his shirt and if he’s honest with himself, he’s not sure what to make of her, but she looks excited and her excitement always transfers easily to him.

“Not too much,” she says back, which doesn't really make sense. “You smell good.”

He laughs. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

Cassian glances up to see Bodhi giving him a look, and he mouths, “I’m going to find Brianna,” before giving Cassian a small salute. Cassian, on the other hand, has to deal with Jyn letting him go in order to come around to his front and reach her arms up, resting them on his shoulders.

She faces him directly, her head is tilted back and she looks at him closely. Her eyes move all around his face, right from his eyes to his lips to his chin, back up again and her hands scratch lightly against the hair at the base of his neck, and she starts to lean forward.  He shivers, and for a heart-pounding second he thinks she’s going to kiss him, but she moves to the side to press her lips to his ear.

There’s music playing but it isn’t that loud. Still she gets close and says, “Let’s get drunk.”

“I think you’re already drunk,” he says with no small amount of amusement. She leans back to pout up at him.

“I’m not,” she insists. “You should have some of Lando’s punch, it’s really good.”

Cassian doesn’t know who Lando is, exactly, but he has to assume the punch is really strong. Jyn loops her arm through his and leads him to the kitchen, and he catches Baze’s eye for a split second before he’s guided through bodies of strangers. It’s not like he doesn’t know it’s a bad idea--

“Here you are, Captain,” she says, handing him a clear plastic cup with a dark red liquid in it.

“Captain?” he asks, and Cassian honestly has no idea what he’s about to drink. It smells sweet, and there’s something floating in it--fruit, probably, but it’s hard to tell exactly what kind.

He hears Jyn laugh. “Like Christopher Columbus. Remember? When we met in that other kitchen. Cass, where was that other kitchen?”

“I don’t know,” he says, because he never did find out whose house it was that night. “I thought you knew everything that happened in this town.”

She frowns. “Just drink the punch, okay?”

Cassian takes one look at her, like this, and tilts the cup into his mouth. There’s the sickly sweet taste that masks the alcohol and the heat of it burning a hole through his chest, there’s the kitchen lights and the way they reflect off of the blue and white marble countertops, and all Cassian can think is _okay_.

He watches her watching him, and all he can think is _okay_.

\--

Getting drunk is always such a strange progression.

For Cassian it always happens like this: he never feels the weight of alcohol until he moves his head and everything follows in slow motion. He feels ready to laugh at anything, and there’s a specific kind of blurriness that drifts behind his eyelids; the bridge of his nose feels like it’s buzzing and he always tilts his head back a little to try and make it stop. It doesn’t work, but he tries anyway.

Right now he’s standing on the back deck because Luke has firecrackers he got from his Uncle Ben, and wants an audience for when he sets them off. Cassian didn’t stop to ask why, he didn’t even think to ask why, he just ended up back here with Jyn. He has another cup of punch with him, which he’s currently sharing with her. She insisted she wasn’t going to drink anymore tonight--just because she didn’t want to hold the cup--so instead they’ve been passing it between them.

He keeps blinking at the way the floodlights invade his peripheral vision, making it hard to focus on anything, but he reaches over and holds on to Jyn’s wrist, because that seems like a good idea. It’s just them out here because Luke went back inside to find some matches, and she looks over at Cassian. The floodlights light her up; the floodlights touch her all over...

And he can’t stop looking at her face, he likes the way her chin is shaped. There’s that little curve beneath her lips, the bow of her lips, and the way they sit under her nose. He feels like he’s being dragged closer; he wants to kiss her right now, he thinks maybe he always wants to kiss her, and he’s just always fooling himself.

He doesn’t know how long he’s looking at her for, but she asks, “What are you thinking about?”

And he answers, “I want to kiss you,” because maybe he isn’t thinking at all. The weight of the alcohol in his stomach has nothing to do with the way it drops. There isn’t even anything he can say to take it back or to change what it means, it’s just out there and he feels like a live wire--completely exposed.

But she tilts her head back--her neck looks so pale in this light--and she laughs. She laughs and she laughs and Cassian doesn’t know what to do about any of it. He doesn’t say anything else but he feels himself start to laugh too, in a way that makes him feel distant from where he is right now: on the back deck with the floodlights trying to expose him like this.

Eventually Luke comes back with the matches, Cassian can’t be sure about how long it takes, but it’s the two of them and then three. It’s the quiet and then _bang, bang, bang_.

Cassian holds Jyn’s wrist a little tighter.

\--

And yeah, he’s not okay.

He is absolutely _not_ okay.

First of all, it’s dark inside the house and he doesn’t remember it being dark, he thinks he says that aloud but he can’t be sure. The lights were on but now--well, he can’t be sure. Second of all, he’s squished between Jyn and Bodhi on the couch and he doesn’t remember how he got here, either. All he knows is that he’s laughing, and Bodhi is pressed completely against his side while Jyn is facing him, her back is against the arm of the couch, and her legs are in his lap.

Everything moves in slow motion, but at the same time, everything spins rapidly. It’s a dizzying mixture of movement, and it doesn’t help that the only light in the room is from the kitchen. It sinks into the room and casts strange shadows on the wall, which is covered in picture frames of the Skywalker family.

His left arm is around Jyn’s waist, and he presses his fingertips against the soft wool of her sweater. This one is cable knit and maroon, and he likes the way it feels, he likes the way his touch draws her attention towards him

“Hey,” he says, softly enough for just her to hear. She blinks widely at him, her gaze is far away but still focused, a little glassy and a little silly but he loves everything about it.

“Hi,” she says back, and she leans forward until her head rests on his shoulder. “You’re comfy.”

He hums against her hair. “Come here.”

And he doesn’t know why she does, but she shifts until she’s in his lap. He wraps his other arm around her waist and holds her tightly against his chest. He can feel people looking at them--that weight of their gaze--but he also feels her fingertips tracing along the back of his hand, and that’s all he wants to focus on. He doesn’t even really feel her weight, except at the same time that’s all he feels--completely surrounded and covered and safe.

Completely surrounded--yeah, and he’s not letting go.

He closes his eyes. There’s music playing but it sounds far away and he can’t make out the words. It blurs into the background and spins along with the rest of the room, but Cassian is snug against Jyn and lets go of everything else.

Except--

“It’ll be three days!” and that’s definitely Han. Cassian has no idea where he is, but his voice is impossible to miss, especially when it’s raised in a way that only happens when he’s with Leia.

“I told you last Sunday that I can’t,” Leia says. “It’s not my fault that you don’t listen.”

“I listen!” he exclaims.

“Tell that to Chewie when no one will take care of him next week.”

Jyn picks up one of Cassian’s hands, pressing hers to his so that they’re palm to palm. Her skin is warm and the tips of her fingers only make it about two thirds of the way in comparison to his--

“Come on, Leia, don’t be like that.”

Jyn lets go and turns so that she’s sideways in his lap, and rests her head on his shoulder. “I hate listening to them fight.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks.

He can feel her nod, and as much as he doesn’t want to leave this position, he taps his hand against her and they both move to get up.

“I’ll meet you out front,” she says, and Cassian watches her leave the room. He thinks he tells Bodhi that they’re going, but he can’t be sure. All he knows is that he half stumbles through a dark house and somehow finds the door.

And somehow--once again--he leaves a party for Jyn Erso.

\--

The moon isn’t out tonight--or maybe just not yet.

It’s the first thing Cassian notices. He’s alone on the sidewalk in front of Luke and Leia’s house, he doesn’t know what happened to Jyn, but he has his head tipped back and the way the stars move around the dark sky makes him dizzy. He doesn’t know their names, but Casey does and he tries to make a mental note to ask her the next time he goes home. He stands there and tips his head all around, making them move and form trails, and it’s mesmerizing. It really is.  

He hears footsteps approaching him, and then the sound of Jyn’s voice. “You look familiar.”

And isn’t that something? That two months ago everything was a stranger to him here, but the way she looks standing on the front walkway feels like home. He’s drunk, he can tell by how slow his smile comes to him, but it fills his whole face when he looks at her.

“Where were you?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” she says, and she laughs but she doesn’t come any closer so he stays where he is too. “Let’s go somewhere.”

Cassian blinks his eyes heavily to make himself focus, and she’s just watching him. She’s just standing there watching him and that shouldn’t be significant, should it?

“Okay,” he says in a small voice, which prompts her to come closer, and then she nods her head up the street. They fall into step side by side and Cassian has no idea where they’re going but it doesn’t feel important to ask.

What Jyn feels is important to ask: “Have you ever been arrested?”

“Yeah,” he answers, and God, he doesn’t know why he does.

“Wait, seriously?”

“No,” he says. He looks over at her, and it’s cute because the streetlamps highlight the way her brows curve in confusion. She’s carrying her jacket, her hair is tucked behind her ears, and Cassian could look at her all night. He really could. “I don’t know why I said that.”

She shrugs her shoulders, and she turns her head to look at him too. “Why do we say anything?”

“Don’t get philosophical with me, Erso. My head’s not ready for it.”

He hears her laugh to herself, and she stops at a chain link fence that lines the sidewalk. It’s half rusted and there’s rogue tree branches caught up in it, but she twists her fingers in the spaces between links and turns to face him. Her arms straighten and she leans back, blinking up at him. She’s all lit up from the streetlamp, warm yellow that ghosts over her skin, and she asks, “So what are you thinking about, then?”

She has to remember what he answered earlier, right? _He_ remembers, even though his head spins and spins and spins. It spins like the stars. He leans his back against the fence, right next to where her hands are, and eyes her carefully. She’s watching him openly, and his gaze flickers down to her lips. “I want to kiss you,” he says again.

Because he’s an absolute idiot.

She laughs again, not as enthusiastic this time, but her eyes form little half moons, and she unfurls one of her hands from the fence and places it on his arm. She meets his gaze, unsteady in this light, and says, “The swing set!”

“What?” he asks, but she’s already moving away from him. He follows her, yeah, yeah, he’s always following her, and she takes off into a run down the sidewalk, dipping in and out of the streetlamps’ light. She reaches out and brushes her hand along the fence, making a clinking sound with every skip of her fingers against the metal.

 _Clink, clink, clink_ , echoing into the empty street.

There’s a break in the fence and Jyn dashes through it. It’s a dirt road, and there’s tall oak trees on either side, spaced out in even intervals. It gets darker the further away they are from the main road, and it’s all Cassian can do to keep up and keep his eye on her. He catches the ends of her hair bouncing against her shoulders, the shape and movement of her arms, that maroon sweater, and her jacket still in her grip. There’s just the hint of her, never the whole thing.

The row of trees ends--the woods are just a line in the distance beyond a wide field now, and he can make out the curve of the moon rising above the faraway treetops. Ahead of him, Jyn finally slows down.

“Hey,” she calls out behind her, and she looks like a ghost right now: something that’s there and then isn’t. Something that disappears and then reappears; haunts you, and moves right through you. When he catches up with her she weaves her fingers through his, gripping his hand tightly. “Don’t get lost, okay?”

He missed the feel of her hand in his. The thought feels pretty sappy in his head, but he thinks he might say it aloud because he hears her laugh, and tonight that seems to be her only response when he says something he shouldn’t.

He tightens his grip on her hand and asks, “Where are we?”

“It’s a secret.”

“A secret?” he questions, and half stumbles over nothing. He looks behind them and then in front of them, confused and moving too slow. “What, is this like my official initiation into Whitebridge?”

“You wish,” she says. “Just wait.”

“Fine,” he says, and in so many ways it is fine. How could it not be? Here he is: it’s dark but his eyes are adjusting, and he’s holding hands with a beautiful girl who makes him happy. What else could he want?

They walk for a few more minutes until the dirt road empties onto a small parking lot behind a one storey brick building. The outside lights are on, and it illuminates sheets of white paper in the windows, each with colorful drawings on it. There’s a flagpole looming high above the building, and to their left is a raised wooden platform covered in mulch and, sure enough, a row of swing sets.

She squeezes his hand once and lets go. She calls out, “I’ll race you!” before running towards the swings; it takes Cassian’s head about three seconds to catch up, and then he’s running full speed after her.

He’s not sure if he can really beat her, but he’s not going to take the chance. He reaches out to grab her--cheating, essentially--but his hand grasps around empty air, she’s just a step out of reach, and doesn’t that feel right? She jumps up onto the playground and twists around in the dark, beaming at him.

Cassian gives up running, mostly because she’s won and also because he has a stitch in his side. He feels his whole stomach slosh around a little and he drags himself up next to her, where she’s still gloating, and passes her to sit on one of the swings.

“You win,” he says, resigned, and kicks his legs forward into the empty night air.

She laughs to herself and pumps her legs forward as well. “It’s okay, it wasn’t fair anyway.”

“That’s very mature of you,” he says, and he looks over at her. She’s half twisted in the swing in order to face him, and he smiles at her. “Let’s see who can swing the highest.”

“What does the winner get?” she asks, already leaning all her weight back and arching over the mulch in one smooth motion.

“A pizza,” he says, pausing because he has to focus on stretching his legs out in front of him. “With any toppings they want. Loser has to buy--which is going to be you, by the way.”

“Yeah, _okay_ ,” she says, and they both fall silent except for the squeak of their chains pulling on the metal framework of the swingset.

Front and back, the bend of his knees, and the air gliding over and around him. This rush of motion sweeps through his stomach and carries him back and forth. Back and forth and through the night; the motion pushes and pulls at him and he feels like he could take off any second, just reach out and cast himself into the sky.

He’s moving too fast now, his swing glides forward and skips when he reaches his highest point, jolting him a little before sending him backwards again. He’s thinking to himself that there’s no way she can beat him, but then he hears Jyn splutter a surprised sound, a small _thud_ , and when he looks over she’s on the ground, not moving.

“Oh my God,” he says to himself, and he drags his feet through the mulch to slow down enough to hop off and rush to her side. She’s laying on her side with her arms tucked in front of her, just a dark shape against the mulch. He pushes her swing out of the way and kneels next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She rolls over to look up at him, and she’s laughing so he has to assume she isn’t badly injured. “I think I lost.”

“Yeah,” he says absently, caught up in the way she looks.

Neither of them move for a second, and it’s clear Jyn isn’t getting up anytime soon, so Cassian moves to sit down. He observes her like this, with the distant light caught in her sweater and over the smooth planes of her face, and her eyes are on the mulch right next to where she’s lying but then they flick up to meet Cassian’s.

He smiles at her--just a press of his lips--and reaches over to untangle a piece of mulch from her bangs. She leans into his touch and Cassian doesn’t pull away, he pushes her hair away from her forehead--much like she did for him on Monday--and brushes his fingertips over her brow bone. Initially she closes her eyes at his touch, but as he drags his hand down and along her jaw she blinks them open and gazes at him.

Oh, and his heart pounds away in his chest; this night feels dangerous.

His hand stops at her chin, grasping it lightly between his thumb and index finger.

“Cassian,” she says, and her voice is so far away, but right there. Her lips move and they’re _right there_. He can feel her breath ghost over his hand. “What are you thinking about?”

“I want to kiss you,” he says again, and he’s more sure about it this time only because of the way she’s looking at him. Like she wants him to, like she would say yes.

They’re at a precipice, they’re standing at the very edge and there’s two ways this could go--

She moves to sit up and his hand drops from where it was. Already he misses the feel of her skin; he curls his hands into fists to distract them and Jyn brushes the mulch from the back of her sweater. She looks up at him--at least she isn’t laughing this time--and says. “I want to show you something.”

He sits there dumbly for a moment, because he doesn’t know why this is happening. He doesn’t know why she keeps ignoring him, if it’s because she doesn’t want to kiss him or if she only wants to hear him say it.

Because if it is...well he’d still say it, wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t he always make a fool of himself for her?

The lights barely touch them here, and looking at her makes his stomach twist. She has one of her arms looped around the chain of the swing, and she’s watching him like he’s something she needs to be careful with. He doesn’t get it, he just---he just doesn’t get it.

“Okay,” he says, because that sounds like the right thing to say. Yeah, it seems right, and he doesn’t know what else he could say, so he tries to let go of this heaviness that settles in his chest, this heaviness that pulls at his throat and makes him feel like crying for some pathetic reason.

She frowns. “Are you alright?”

He says, “Yeah,” but he shakes his head because he’s pretty confused and he wishes he could take back the alcohol. He doesn’t want to be drunk right now. He wants to feel normal.  

“Come on,” she says, and she stands, holding out her hand for him to take. She helps him up and wraps her arm around his waist. They’re pressed together all along their sides; Cassian puts his arm around her shoulder and she rests her cheek against his chest.

They walk like this around the other side of the school, Cassian can feel himself slowing down, but her touch grounds him in a way that keeps him going. His footsteps feel sluggish and tired, but he likes the way her hand clutches at his waist.

It’s all too much, but he doesn’t want her to let go.

“Tell me a story,” he requests, gazing distractedly at the sidewalk ahead of them, dark and mostly in the shadows.

“About what?”

“Anything.”

“Umm,” she says to herself, and then she makes a sound that Cassian can’t identify. It’s something between a laugh and a snort. “Did you know that we supposedly have a bigfoot in these woods?”

Cassian looks over at her, because he was stuck watching their legs move, but now he meets her gaze where she’s craning her head up towards him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, “there was this guy in the 1800’s who wrote a book about it. He chased Bigfoot all over the country or something, and there’s a brief passage that mentions, of all places, Whitebridge, Vermont. So of course the people here thought they were famous because of it, and have tried--several times--to exploit it for tourism. It’s kinda dumb, but growing up we’d always make up stories about him, like his past and how he got here and where he’s hiding.”

“Have you ever seen him?” he asks. “Considering that you’re Miss Whitebridge.”

“You’re not funny, and no I haven’t,” she answers. Her hand adjusts where it’s gripping his waist and he has to hold back the way it makes his breath hitch. She hums to herself. “Not for a lack of trying though. A bunch of us, we must’ve been about fourteen, went camping right up around here. We tried to find him, you know, flashlights and traps and all that, but it was more for a laugh than anything.”

He laughs loud enough to echo into the empty street and shakes his head. “You’ve actually looked for bigfoot. I can’t believe you’re one of those people.”

“Hey, you can’t make fun of me for that! I’m trying to comfort you. Baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” he wines, which kind of totally makes him a baby.

“Cassian,” she says seriously, and he can’t see her, but he knows exactly what face she’s making right now. “We established this that first night: you’re a baby. There’s no point in denying it.”

“But why?” he asks. “Just because I’m younger than you?”

“No, but now that you mention it, your birthday is coming up soon.”

“Yes,” he agrees warily.

“Don’t sound like that, do you have any plans?”

“It’s the Monday after Thanksgiving, so I might just have a little party when I go home.”

“Nothing here?”

“Eh,” he says, and he glances up at where the moon has fully broken away from the tops of the trees. It sits all alone in the sky now: a crescent lit up all along the left side. “I mean, not a party. Maybe it’d be nice to hang out if we’re all free, but nothing special.”

He thinks about Jyn’s party, and the way that he can still see _Happy Birthday_ in that kitchen with the jack-o-lanterns and string lights. He remembers the way the jacket fit against his arms, which he must have left at the greenhouse, because he hasn’t seen it since that night. Everything about that memory sits happily in the back of his mind. He can’t imagine a better way to have met Jyn.

“We’ll think of something fun to do,” she says.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and they walk for nearly ten minutes, chattering idly about whatever. Cassian tries to focus on the topics of conversation but they get lost just as quickly as they come.

His eyesight, however, is getting better the longer they stay out. The dark of the night turns milky under the moon and the way that he adjusts to it. Eventually there’s an old wooden fence that begins to line the sidewalk, simple in its structure as its just two wooden beams connected to the posts that sit between them. He’s thinking to himself that it looks like they’re getting further away from Whitebridge when Jyn says, “This is the old farm.”

 _The old farm_ sits somewhere in the back of his head, and Cassian has to sort through blurry memories from the other day. “Baze was just talking about this.”

“Was he?” she asks. “What did he say?”

“Something about a truck?” Right, yeah, he was on their living room floor. And doesn’t that feel far away? Doesn’t that seem like a lifetime ago?

Jyn laughs to herself. “Yeah he used to drive that old thing all over. I was just a kid, but sometimes he’d take me with him, and he’d always pretend like the brakes weren’t working. It would drive me crazy.”

“That’s probably why he did it.”

“Oh absolutely,” she says. “I went with him and Chirrut to the top of Mount Washington once, and the whole way down he kept saying that we’d all have to jump out once we got to the bottom.”

Cassian smiles in amusement. “What happened when you got to the bottom?”

“Nothing!” she exclaims. “I stopped believing anything he said after that.”

“What about the farm, then? Did you spend a lot of time here?”

“It’s my father’s farm, actually,” she says, and when she presses her lips together they automatically quirk to the side. She takes a steadying breath. “Or used to be, I guess.”

And if it's supposed to look like a farm, it's failing in some obvious way. Even in this lighting he can see that it's wildly overgrown. The grass stands tall and there aren't any rows of crops or plants that look intentional. The whole field looks wild and abandoned, stretching out to the distant line of trees in a chaotic, unruly tangle of growth. Cassian frowns to himself and asks, “Did he sell it?”

“I don’t know,” she says, and how could she not know?

“How long did you live here?” he asks.

“I was eight,” she says, “when it was over.”

He looks down at her, she has her head turned away but he can see the hint of her brow turned down. “What happened?”

She looks at him, her gaze distant, and she goes over to where the fence sits in the tall grass, stepping up onto the bottom rung. Her answer doesn’t come, so Cassian joins her, feeling half steady as his hands scrape over the splintered and aged wood next to her.

“You see that tree over there?” she asks.

And only a little bit. He can half make out the outline of a tree and it’s empty branches, sitting alone away from the rest of the woods beyond the field, and Cassian tries not to frown at it. “Yeah.”

Jyn doesn’t answer for a long, long moment, and Cassian looks over at her. She’s staring at it intently. She bites her lip, and then: “It’s a good tree.”

He almost laughs, he really does, but she says it too seriously, too deeply. She says it and Cassian feels like he doesn’t understand anything; he feels like the world is swallowing him whole and these fragments of conversations are the only thing keeping him from disappearing completely.

That’s when she turns to him, and she looks up at him with her eyes narrowed, and her voice sounds tired and somehow pleading when she asks, “Cassian, what are you thinking?”

“Don’t,” he says, thinking back to the first three times he’s answered that question, and his stomach sinks all the way down. “Please don’t ask me that.”

She blinks once, heavily, and time itself has gotten slower. She nods, but her eyes trace down the lines of his face and then back up to meet his gaze. Cassian can feel that pull, that draw to lean forward and just do it, just kiss her, because maybe that’s what she’s really wanted this whole time. He has his hands wrapped around the wooden fence, tight enough to leave marks, and his heart beats wildly as he considers his options.

“Jyn,” he says, because he can’t help himself. “I want to kiss you.”

She looks at him. She just looks at him without expression, and the way her eyes meet his makes him feel cold. It doesn’t make sense to him, especially with the way that he feels right now, that she needs him to say it but withdraws the second he does. He just--yeah. He doesn’t get it, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get it.

“You should see the old treehouse,” she says distractedly. “It’s up the street.”

He sighs to himself, because it was stupid to try. It was stupid to get his hopes up or to expect anything else. “So what kind of tour of Whitebridge is this?”

“Just the important parts,” she says, and they both hop down from the fence. She doesn’t wrap her arm around him this time, but they walk close enough that their shoulders bump every now and then. He thinks about what she considers important; he looks at the long stretch of a forgotten field and he wonders, he really, truly wonders what happened to Jyn’s father.

But he also knows how useless it is to ask.

“Is it your treehouse?” he asks, because that seems like a safer way to say it.

“No,” she answers, and she tilts her head back to look at the tree canopy above them. They grow over the road--which they’re walking right in the middle of because there’s no one around, and they both know there won’t be anyone around. The half filled trees shake and interlock, clicking together in the night air and creating gaps to see the sky through. Cassian looks up at it too, but he likes the way it makes her expression come alive. She continues, “I don’t know who built it, just that it’s always been around. As kids we’d fight over the thing all the time, like who was allowed in or what it was.”

“Let me guess, you were always in charge?”

There’s a slow smile that comes to her lips, and she meets his gaze with a brow raised. “How did you know?”

He laughs. “Just a feeling.”

“Look,” she says, and points to where the treehouse looms over them in the dark. It sits in a tree slightly shorter than the ones around it, and from what Cassian can tell it's relatively simple in its structure. It’s just four wooden walls and wooden planks nailed into the side of the tree to lead to its open entrance. He cranes his head to look up at it and smiles at her before looking back at it. “Am I allowed in?”

“I don’t know,” she says, and she’s already climbing the ladder. “Do you think you’re worthy?”

“What would make me worthy?” he calls up behind her.

She scrambles into the treehouse, and it’s just a second later that her head pops out and she’s nearly dangling over the edge.

And like, if that doesn’t make him nervous.

“Well, you’re a boy, so you’re already at a disadvantage.”

“Really?”

“No boys allowed, Cass, but maybe we can make an exception.”

“Please?” he asks.

“What’s the secret password?”

His brain is moving too slow for this. He looks down at the grass, scuffling his feet for a moment, and this distance between them feels too big. He has to crane his next to see her, and it’s just her outline. There’s something dizzyingly childlike about this. “Seahorse?”

“Seahorse?” she questions with no small amount of disdain. “What the hell?”

“It was the first thing that came to mind! I don’t know!” he exclaims. “Can you give me a hint?”

“That would be cheating,” she says, and she disappears for a moment. Cassian stands there in the silence, and he feels a slight chill run down his arms as he waits for her to come back. He doesn’t know how long she’s gone for, but it feels like a long time. When she pops over the side again, she says, “If you do a handstand, I might consider it.”

“There’s a chance I could die,” he calls up at her, because he can’t do handstands when he’s sober, so right now the possibility of him landing on his neck is astronomically high.

“Is that a chance you’re willing to take?” she asks.

“No,” he answers. “What if I promised to buy you ice cream instead?”

She doesn’t say anything for a bit, and then: “Can it be cookie dough?”

He shakes his head, but he smiles. “Anything you want, Jyn.”

“Fine,” she relents with a sigh. “Come on up.”

Cassian takes a breath before venturing up the wooden planks. They creak from his weight but they seem steady enough, and despite their obvious wear they still hold up. He’s on the top rung when he can finally tip his head up to see inside, but the second he does, Jyn shines her phone’s flashlight towards him and nearly causes him to fall out. “Jyn!”

She laughs. “Sorry!”

“Is that payback for the notecards?” he asks, pulling himself up and into the treehouse. Sparks of light sit in the corners of his vision and he has to blink them out of the way.

“Always,” she says, and she sets her phone down in the corner so that the flashlight is aimed towards the ceiling. It fills the little room with the strangest light, and he can only half make out words carved into the wooden walls of the treehouse. Some look like drawings, and some are written in permanent marker.

It’s not as cramped as he thought it would be, though he doesn’t think that there’s enough room for him to stand up, they could probably fit a few more people in here. There’s a window on either side, two open spaces much like the door, and he thinks about all the people that have been up here in its history. He gets to be apart of that now.  

“Another rule,” she says. “Is that you have to use your quiet voice up here, that way no one down below can hear your secrets.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and he keeps his voice quiet but feels like he needs to be closer to her. Maybe that’s just what he wants. “Are we sharing secrets now?”

She nods enthusiastically, but then she tilts her face towards the light and smiles. He loves her profile, he loves the way she looks in this light, soft and quiet and something only he gets to see. He watches the way her eyelashes cast a shadow onto her cheek when she closes her eyes, like if he blinks he’ll miss it. Her grin widens. “You gotta--you gotta tell me one first.”

“Why me?” he asks.

“Because I’m in charge here,” she says, and she scoots a little farther back and lays down. Cassian watches her for a long moment, the way her hair fans out around her and her hands hold the edges of her sleeves. She has her arms resting across her middle, and her head turns to the left to look at him.

“Fine,” he says, and he lays beside her. He’s all stretched out and his feet touch the wall of the treehouse but it’s not uncomfortable. He’s on his back, he tilts his head towards her, and like this there’s so little space between them. “What do you want to know?”

“Could be anything,” she says, and her voice has gone even softer.

He hums to himself and glances up at the ceiling. There’s all sorts of drawings that he can make out, of flowers and animals and half done scribbles that don’t seem to be anything at all. Some of them have to be by Jyn, and he lets himself get distracted for a moment before thinking back to the question. Secrets. Right.

“My first girlfriend broke up with me by writing me a letter,” he says.

She laughs immediately, squinting her eyes shut. “You poor thing, how old were you?”

“Like thirteen."

“That’s pretty advanced for a thirteen year old, I would’ve just ignored you.”

“Yeah, well she was nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He just gives her a look, and Jyn cracks up again. “Stop, I know I’m mean,” she says, and she reaches forward to grab his hand, and just like earlier in the night she places her palm against his.

“You’re not mean,” he says, and he’s looking at their hands but when he meets her eyes she’s smiling. Her hand slips away, but her finger comes back and traces a _J_ onto his.

And then a _Y_.

And then an _N_.

And Cassian swears he can hear his heart beating in his chest. He keeps his gaze locked on hers and he needs a distraction. Yeah, he keeps his gaze locked on hers because he _can’t_ let himself think about what it means, so he says, “What about you, then? What’s your secret?”

She makes a thoughtful noise, and thankfully pulls her hand completely away from his. “I fell out of this treehouse once.”

“Did you get hurt?”

“Broke my arm and got a concussion.”

“Oh my God.”

She half laughs. “Yeah it was kind of awful, but I got to skip school for a week.”

“I’ve never broken a bone,” he says.

“I could push you out right now, see what happens.”

“Is that what you brought me up here for?”

“Maybe,” she says, and she lifts her head to look at the open entrance of the treehouse. “My plan is working well so far.”

They fall into silence and Cassian lets his mind wander, he lets himself slip and think about it--why he’s here and why she wrote her name on his hand why this is happening tonight, of all nights. He wants to stop questioning everything, but it’s hard when he feels like this and when she looks at him the way she does.

“Tell me something else,” she says, and Cassian watches the way she watches him and he’s so absolutely enamored by her. He’s so completely captured by everything about her. Those eyes--God--those eyes and how she presses her lips together, or her skin like sugar, like snow, the sweetest and the softest. Even in her silences, and especially in her loudness. He looks at her.  

Yeah--he looks at her.

“I like the sound of your voice,” he says, and whatever she was expecting, he’s guessing it wasn’t that. She can’t hide the way that her expression changes. Her brows raise and she focuses on him more directly rather than the half blurry way she was looking at him before. She doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but then there’s a slow grin that finds her lips.

Yeah, she’s grinning, but there’s something very serious about how she says, “I like the way your eyes crinkle when you smile.”

And Cassian can’t help it, he smiles. Jyn lifts a hand to his temple, her thumb brushes along the area next to his eye, and she searches his face. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for when her gaze travels around him the way it does, but when she looks into his eyes he nearly feels compelled to turn away. The intensity and the draw between them is too much, it’s always too much, but she leans forward and he can’t breathe.

“Cassian,” she whispers. This time she’s too close to call it anything else, this time her breath ghosts over his lips, and this time there’s nowhere else for either of them to go. “What are you thinking about?”

“I want to kiss you,” he mumbles, desperate and half in a daze. His eyelids feel so heavy but he wants to keep them open, wants to look into those green eyes until they’re so close he can’t focus on her anymore.

“Go on,” she says, and the hand that was next to his eye slides down to his jaw. “All you have to do is ask.”

Her voice is so quiet, so soft that Cassian feels like he has to be mistaken. Somehow he knows that this can’t be real, and all he can get out is, “Can I--” before their lips touch.

He’ll never fully be sure who finally closed the distance between them.

What he is sure of: his whole body has to either be trembling or completely on fire, and he can’t catch his breath but he doesn’t feel like he has to. This could never be defined as one kiss, because their mouths press together and never really break apart. They move against each other: all-encompassing, consuming, and Cassian sinks his teeth into her bottom lip like he’s been wanting to all this time.

She makes a small sound in the back of her throat and he can _feel it_. Those vibrations and her hand on his jaw, yeah her hand is on his jaw and then it’s fisted in his shirt. He half rolls over to make it easier on them both. He’s on his side with one arm stretched over them; his hand presses too hard into the wooden floor, the other grasps greedily at Jyn’s waist, and how long has he wanted to be here? He kisses her and he kisses her again. Again and again and again.

The soft light of the tree house, the soft knit of her sweater bunched in his hand, the way she tastes: sickly sweet from the fruit punch. He’s surrounded. He’s absolutely, completely surrounded.

Eventually they both break apart, the sluggish crawl of time feels meaningless right now, and Jyn’s breathing a little heavily. She looks like she’s been kissed--all shiny lips and glazed eyes--and that does things to him. Really, it does.

“Jyn,” he says, just a whisper, just a small sound in the dead silent night, and this is something he’ll always hate himself for: “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” she says, and she meets his eyes fully. There’s no backing away from this. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“No,” he says immediately, and he says it because he thinks it should mean something, but it might come across differently to her, it might sound like he agrees with her but he’s not thinking clearly enough to make the distinction. He lets his hand move from her waist to spread across her back. “I just want--”

Well, he doesn’t know how to say what he wants, but she’s warm and he’s greedy; he needs to be closer. He kisses her again before he wraps her up in his arms, a little desperate and a little nervous, and buries his face in her hair. Jyn settles against him, body to body, and scratches light patterns against his back.

The motion lulls him, it calms his racing heart down to something softer, something quieter. It’s just him and her, and it’s getting colder but he only feels it in an abstract way. Like it’s something he should be more aware of, but the weight of the alcohol is finally dragging him down.

He can feel himself starting to fall asleep, his eyes drift closed and his whole body relaxes into her embrace. He wants to stay in the moment a little longer, but she rubs his back and each arch she draws pulls him further; all of it pulls him under.  

Heavy, heavy, heavy; the night finally consumes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many chapters end with Cassian falling asleep?? I'm asking for a friend...


	7. That's a Cold Tow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry about how long it's taken me to post this, hopefully I've made up for it by how enormous this chapter is... Anyway, I finally figured out how many chapters there'll be in total, so there's just four more before we're finally done! Thank you for being endlessly patient with me, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also--without giving away any spoilers, there is a scene that takes place in a hospital in this chapter, as well as a description of an injury. No blood and nothing graphic, but please be cautious if that might disturb you.

Cassian’s never been so comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time.

On one hand, he wakes up warm and curled around Jyn’s back. Her hair brushes against his cheek, one of his legs is tangled between hers, and his arms are wrapped securely around her waist. His hands clutch her sweater--buried snugly in the soft material, and it’s the most secure feeling he knows.

But on the other hand, his shoulder digs uncomfortably into the hard wooden floor of the treehouse and his neck is bent at an awkward angle since they don’t have any pillows. His nose is cold--actually, everywhere that isn’t touching Jyn is cold because despite the mild weather lately, it’s still November. The morning air doesn’t hold back, and chills run up his arms as his eyes adjust to the sun streaming in through the open space behind him.

Yeah, it’s warm light despite the cold, it’s two bodies warm with sleep and the morning drags Cassian to consciousness. He doesn’t want to be anywhere else.  

Except for the fact that his stomach _hates_ him right now.

He looks at the light dipping into this shared space and lets his eyes fall closed. His mouth is dry and his stomach moves uneasily, but he might be okay if he stays still and lets it settle.

The key word being _might_.

And it’s funny, because he’s so focused on the way he feels that he doesn’t even really think about why he’s here in the first place. It isn’t until the memories from last night filter in, which come slowly but vividly, that he remembers. Yeah, he remembers the sound of firecrackers, the swing set, and standing next to her on the fence; the way her lips turned down at the corners when she talked about her dad...he remembers climbing up here.

He remembers kissing her.

Involuntarily, he shifts at the thought. There’s the ghost feeling of her lips on his and her fingers grasping the front of his shirt, there’s the echo of her voice, barely audible and gasping against his mouth, and there’s nothing he can do about it right now other than let the memory wash over him.

Whatever movement he makes results in Jyn stirring. He hears her exhale softly and then she groans as she stretches her body out--still within the circle of his arms. He doesn’t know whether or not she knows he’s awake, but her hands come down on where his gather her up, and she rests them over his. Her touch ignites a little uneasiness in his stomach (or maybe that’s the nausea), that perhaps she remembers kissing him too.  

She presses down on where he’s holding her and uses it as leverage to roll over and face him. Their eyes meet first, and neither of them say anything at first, they watch each other, and Jyn reaches up to push a lock of hair across his forehead. Her fingertips brush his skin for just a second and there are so many ways that this could go--

“Good morning,” she says finally, and her voice sounds low but soft. “I feel like garbage.”

“You’re not going to be sick, are you?”

“Debatable,” she says, but she snuggles into his chest and takes a deep breath. “No, I’m cold, and despite the fact that sleeping in this treehouse was a childhood fantasy of mine, my neck hates me right now.”

Cassian hums in agreement. “Whose bright idea was it to sleep up here, anyway?”

“I don’t know, man,” she says. “Some genius who was clearly too drunk to realize he was making a mistake.”

And that makes him wonder whether or not she remembers. His eyes meet hers but there’s nothing he can tell from the way she watches him. There seems to be no desire to kiss him again, but there isn’t any repulsion over what happened. She seems completely fine with not saying anything about it, but Cassian has a hard time restraining his eyes from flicking down to her lips. He should say something, he really should--

“Do you want breakfast?” she asks, twisting out of his embrace in order to sit up. She looks down at him and already Cassian misses the feel of her in his arms. Her hair is a mess, caught and tangled in the back, and her bangs stick up a little bit, but it’s cute. She says, “You can come to my house if you want. You know, warm up a bit. Heal. Feel more human.”

He sits up as well, and his whole stomach sinks down unpleasantly. Wincing, he says, “Yeah, I don't know how I feel about food right now, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to die if I don’t drink some water soon.”

She raises an amused brow. “Well we can’t let that happen.”

“I know, especially since it’d be your fault.”

“My fault? Why?”

“You’re the one who forced me to drink last night.”

“Forced you?” she asks, laughing. “Are you still drunk?”

“I might be, honestly.”

“Let’s get out of here, then,” she says, scooting over to the entry to the treehouse. The light from the window behind him strikes a line right across her face, over her eyes smudged with last night’s makeup, and makes them a paler shade of green. “I’ll fix you up at home.”

Cassian swallows down his rising stomach as Jyn disappears down the ladder. He stays where he is, trying not to think about what it would be like if they were going home together. If they ever got to the point where the word home would mean the same place for them both.

He’s getting _way_ ahead of himself.

He checks his phone before lowering himself down, but the screen stays black until he realizes that it has to be dead. And okay, ladders aren’t great when you feel normal, so with his stiff arms, shaky stomach, and still dizzy head it’s a bit of a nightmare picking his way down the wooden planks. His cold hands clutch the splintered wood, and the morning envelops him completely.

When he reaches the bottom, Jyn’s watching him carefully, with just the smallest sense of a smile on her face as she stands in the overgrown grass. The sleeves of her sweater are pulled low around her closed fists and the breeze pushes at her hair, just gently knocking it against her chin and over her mouth. Cassian kissed her last night. How is he ever going to get over that?

“What time is it?” he asks, because he needs to distract himself already. The cold helps wake him up, and his body feels like it’s threatening to shiver but won’t fully go there. It could shake apart but it stays in a strange stasis between motion and stillness.  

“Dunno,” she says. “I left my phone at home.”

“On purpose?”

“Yes on purpose, I’m not very good with my phone when I’m drunk.”

“Jyn Erso: drunk texter?” he suggests.

She laughs, and the sound wakes him up a little more, it makes him feel a little more alive and a little more like himself. She says, “No I’m telling you, it’s bad.”

“Well obviously, if you can’t even keep your phone with you. What have you done?”

“Not important.”

“Jyn,” he whines. “It’s very important.”

He hears her make a small sound, but she doesn’t answer and Cassian looks over at her. Her arms are crossed over one another and she’s staring straight ahead. He’s beginning to worry that he’s done something wrong when she says, “That’s too bad,” and smiles at him.

But her heart obviously isn’t in it, and it makes Cassian feel even funnier than he did before. Just--off. Something isn’t right and he tries to take a deep breath in order to relax his stomach, which tightens and makes his head spin a little.

“You’re so mysterious,” he jokes softly, hearing his own voice go quiet. And maybe it’s not a joke, because she _is_ mysterious, but they both seem content to leave it at that. The cold is making Cassian irritated, but he’s distracted by the trees and the fence that lines the field on their right. It feels so different than it did last night, when it was made of shadows and dark shapes revealed only by the moonlight.

He’s uneasy about that fact that they’re not talking about it. There’re things he’s content to let go, but this feels important. He looks at the tree that she pointed out to him, alone and empty in the field, and he thinks about the way her lips felt on his.

What are they _doing_?

He knows he needs to say something, but he sees her look at the tree as well, and the way that her lips press together makes his stomach sink even lower than it was before.

Maybe it’s dangerous to let it go for now, but what else can he do?

\--

Cassian can’t tell if it’s still his stomach bothering him or nervous energy that rushes through him as they approach Jyn’s house. He’s usually in the driveway, so it’s strange to be approaching it like this, up the brick walkway and through that cheery yellow door that always shuts him out.

Inside there’s a little entry, and to the side there’s a white cabinet with multiple cubbies for shoes. Jyn immediately kicks hers off and shoves them inside, saying, “My aunt might kill you if you don’t.”

“Okay,” he says, drawing the word out, and his eyes move around the impeccable wood floors and the pale blue rug that lines the hall ahead of them. The whole place is bright, with the windows on either side of the door behind them stretching clear, happy lines into the house. The walls are white but decorated with different pieces of abstract art, accenting the hallway in vivid shades of blue green, blue white, blue yellow. Blue on blue, and the arching, flowing lines of paint. It’s like the ocean, pulling him in and dragging him under, but then there’s Jyn in her maroon sweater, coated in lovely light, and he’s dragged back to shore.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting.

“Nice place,” he says as he follows her towards the kitchen at the end of the hall. The sun streams in through sheer curtains above the sink, and the cabinets and chairs are white. There’s a jar of sand on the gray marble countertop, and behind them there’s a cork board with a calendar and index cards--white with blue lines. Some have Jyn’s neat handwriting on them, and others have a loopy cursive scrawl, presumably written by her aunt.

“Thanks,” she says, reaching into a cabinet and pulling out two glasses. “It’s kind of over the top in my opinion, but Kathy likes it and it’s her house, so.”

He half laughs, glancing around the room at all the decorations--the sea glass in a little dish, and the tea towel with a black and white striped lighthouse stitched into the bottom--before his eyes find her again. “I can tell,” he says, and Jyn comes closer and brings him a glass of water. He has to resist the temptation of taking long, desperate gulps, and instead sip slowly to make sure his stomach can handle it.

“I’m making myself a bagel,” she says, “did you want anything? We have a variety of cereals, toast, eggs, whatever. I don’t know if you trust me to cook for you, but I would.”

She says this as she cuts a bagel in half and plops it down in the toaster, and Cassian has to wonder how she has so much energy right now when he feels like he’s on the verge of death. It’s too bright to feel like death. Bright, bright kitchen, it’s all overwhelming in a way that doesn’t make sense. Cassian tries to shake the thought aside and says, “After having your soup I’m pretty sure I’d eat anything you’d make me.”

“Well that’s very flattering, what do you want?”

“Oh no, I’m good for now.”

She raises a brow. “Let me know if that changes.”

“I will,” he says, and that’s when a petite woman with cropped dark hair marches into the kitchen. Her heels click against the tiled floor and she takes one surprised glance at Cassian before looking back to Jyn. “Boyfriend?” she asks.

“No,” Jyn answers casually, without any emotion. Right, Cassian knows that he’s not her boyfriend, but the ease at which she says it still stirs a sense of anxiety in his chest. Then Jyn smiles at him and says, “Cassian, this is my aunt, Kathy. Kathy this is my friend Cassian.”

“Hi,” he says with a small smile, as if he’s not a stranger sitting in her kitchen. As if he didn’t spend the night with her niece.

“Hi,” she says back, then without hesitation: “Jyn, I need you to move your clothes out of the dryer.”

“Right this second?”

Kathy sighs as she fills the coffee pot. “Yes, I have a load in the wash that I need done before noon. You know I have that conference this week, I’m trying to get as much done as possible before it.”

Jyn puts her bagel down and looks at Cassian as if this is ridiculous. He doesn’t feel sympathy for her mostly because inside he’s pleading, _don’t leave me alone with your aunt_.

“I’ll be back,” she says, more to Cassian than to Kathy, who pours her coffee into a mug and turns around to look at him. She leans back against the counter, taking a ginger sip, and the steam slips right out of the mug and curls around her face. She doesn’t look very much like Jyn, but there is the sense of family connection, if not in her appearance, but the way that her features quirk into a curious expression.

“I like your house,” he offers, willing to fill the silence quickly before it turns awkward. “Very...nautical.”

His eyes glance to the four dry starfish hanging on the wall before returning to her.

“Oh,” she says, like she wasn’t expecting that, and she smiles. “Yeah, they might seem a little out of place, but I had a house on the beach before I moved to Whitebridge. All my decorations came with me.”

“How long have you lived here?” he asks, half curious if the answer will fill in some sort of gap in Jyn’s story. At this point he isn’t sure if Jyn would answer this question, but maybe, since it’s not really her life that he’s asking about.

It’s not her _dad_ that he’s asking about. He’s learning to tell the difference.

Kathy looks to the side in concentration. “It’ll be two years this spring, I think.”  

“Do you miss it?”

She laughs to herself but it isn’t happy. “I don’t miss cleaning sand off of my floors every day, but there’s something irreplaceable about walking the beach in the evenings. Life’s different here.”  

A wave of sadness swoops low in Cassian’s stomach. The way her voice sounds reminds him of home and the way that his mom sounds when he calls her on the phone, and he wants to make it better for Kathy but there’s nothing he can say. All he can offer is, “I just moved here in August, I’m not really all that used to it yet.”

“Are you here for school?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I just transferred to WSU this semester.”

That seems to provoke a happier response. She raises her brows and smiles. “That’s great, what do you study?”

“Accounting.”

“And you like it?”

“Some of the time,” he says, breathing out a short laugh. “It has its ups and downs.”

“It’ll get you a good job,” she says firmly. “I wish Jyn would go there instead of working in that drugstore. I worry about her.”

He hesitates, feeling a little thrown off and oddly defensive. “She’ll figure things out,” he assures.

Kathy hums and sits down at the table with him. “How did you two meet?”

“Uh, it was a Halloween party, or a birthday party. Half and half, I guess,” he says, laughing awkwardly to himself. “Jyn’s birthday party, more specifically. It was the first thing we talked about.”

“I remember that night,” she says, and this seems to make her even more curious. Cassian can’t explain it, watching her face turn into something different, more suspecting. She asks, “Was Jyn lying when she said you weren’t her boyfriend?”

And Cassian can swear that his heart picks up. She watches him and Cassian tries to keep his voice level, saying, “No, we’re just good friends,” as if they didn’t kiss last night, as if they didn’t sleep curled around each other in a cold treehouse, as if the way he shifts in his seat doesn’t make him look guilty.

“Sorry if this is uncomfortable for you, but I have to look out for her. Did you stay here last night?”

“No,” he rushes out, and bites down on his tongue to slow down. “I just came over this morning.”

Which is _technically_ the truth.

“Cass,” Jyn interrupts, thankfully. He looks up, letting out an anxious breath, and she’s leaning against the door frame with an amused smile. “I have to show you something.”

He raises his brows and nods at Kathy before following Jyn down the hall.

“Should I be nervous?” he asks, feeling on edge.

“Why would you ever need to be nervous around me?”

And he could think of more than a few answers to that question, but then he's in Jyn's room and he can't help smiling to himself. It says more about her than he thinks she ever would, with the string lights hanging from the ceiling, and her bureau--which is covered with pieces of jewelry and knick knacks and makeup cases. It's an organized chaos. Her bed is neatly made but there's a pile of clothes--presumably the ones she just took out of the dryer--folded and sitting at end of it. There's a shelf full of trophies, but they crowd each other and Cassian has no idea what they're all for.

On the opposite wall there's another cork board like the one in the kitchen, but this one is absolutely covered in photos. He can't make out a lot of them from here, but he sees smiles and he sees green mountains. He sees evidence of Jyn's life.

It's perfect.

He opens his mouth to comment on it, but Jyn’s already half in the closet next to her bed, pulling out his coat from that fateful Halloween party.

“I’ve been meaning to give this back to you,” she says.

He feels a wave of sadness as he reaches out to take it. That night feels so distant in his memory now, but he remembers standing with Bodhi in that store, looking in the mirror and wondering if it was good enough. He didn’t know how this coat would bring him to Jyn. He thinks of her wearing it over her ladybug costume, running across that intersection, and the way that her headband flattened her bangs across her forehead. They’ve come so far, haven’t they?

He wants to say thank you, he really does, but what comes out instead is, “We should talk about last night.”

“What about it?” she asks, and he doesn’t blame her for the way she looks at him in surprise, before it evens out into something neutral.

And why is he doing this? He watches her carefully and says, “We kissed.”

“Right,” she says, and then she pushes all the clothes off the end of the bed. “Sit.”

He eases himself next to her on the bed, and their knees knock together but it doesn’t ease the nervousness in his chest. “I’m not bringing this up because I’m...expecting anything, you know? I just--I don’t want it to go unmentioned and then we’re always left wondering where we’re at.”

“Okay,” she says, and she looks at him, but there’s nothing discernable about her expression. “So where are you at?”

And--right, this is it. He sighs. “I like you Jyn.”

“Oh yeah? I would hope so.”

“No--I mean,” and he pauses. “As a friend, and potentially--hopefully, I guess--as something more.”

“What are you saying?” she asks plainly, and Cassian hesitates because she withdraws. Her gaze meets his but then it lowers down towards her hands and her lips even out, turning down a little at the corners.

He’s so stupid.

“I liked kissing you last night,” he goes on, because apparently he has no control over his dumb mouth. “And I’m always happy when I’m with you, even when I was sick. I just--I don’t know if you’re even close to thinking the same thing, but what I’m trying to say is that I’m interested in you. Romantically. As in, I want to be your boyfriend, and can you please stop me before I say anything even more idiotic?”

“Cass,” she says, drawing the word out with a soft smile. But it’s not a happy smile, and her eyes watch him carefully. “I, um. First of all, I’m not saying this just to be nice, okay? I really like you too, you know? Spending time with you is my favorite. The thing is, I’m just not...there.”

She pauses for a long time and Cassian presses his lips together. “Where?”

“At the point where I want to be in a relationship. With anyone.”

“Okay,” he says, because that’s that, isn’t it? There’s nothing else to say.  

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry” he says. “Like I said, I didn’t have any expectations. I just wanted to know, and now I do.”

“Right,” she says, “but I don’t want it to change anything.”

“It won’t,” he promises.

Her lips curl into something unpleasant, it scrunches up her nose a bit and she runs a hand through her unruly bangs. Her shoulders drop a little. “People say that all the time and then they become awkward and distant. I mean it, Cass, you’re a good friend. I don’t want this to come between us.”

“And I mean it too, nothing has to change.”

She looks like she doesn’t believe him but she nods. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he says. “Friends get drunk and kiss each other all the time. It’s whatever.”

Right, sure friends kiss each other when they’re drunk, but they don’t usually follow it up with _I want to be your boyfriend_ the next morning. God. Cassian really does hate himself.  

Jyn smiles reluctantly, but it’s a genuine smile and it gives him the tiniest bit of normalcy to latch onto.

“Your aunt is nice,” he offers. And yeah, maybe it was a little uncomfortable talking to her, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t _nice_.

“She has her moments,” Jyn says.

“You two don’t get along?”

She shrugs. “No we do, most of the time. We both know we don’t really want to live together, but she’d worry about me otherwise.”

“Being on your own?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I don’t know. It’s weird. She tries to act like she’s my mom or something, but sometimes I get the feeling that she’s only doing it because she thinks she has to.”

“Why does she have to?” he asks, wondering if it has to do with Jyn’s actual mother. Obviously her father isn’t in the picture, but she hasn’t brought up her mother once, and Cassian’s curious about it in a way that makes his stomach flip uneasily. The way she talks, it seems like she might not have parents around at all.

“She doesn’t have to, that’s the thing,” Jyn says, and her brows draw together as she looks down at her lap. “Anyway--it’s not that important.”

It sure seems important, but Cassian’s not going to say anything. It’s already been a heavy morning. So he glances around the room, and his eyes land on her trophy shelf. “What sport did you play?” he asks.

She follows his gaze and breathes out a short laugh. “Soccer. I played for like, twelve years. Our team was pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” he says, raising a brow. The amount of trophies she has suggests otherwise.

“Yeah,” she says quietly. She looks at the shelf and then back at him, pressing her lips together into a smile.

And this...this isn’t going anywhere. It feels so awkward and stilted and Cassian wants it to stop. He wants things to go back to normal, and that’s the worst, isn’t it? All this time he’s wanted to kiss Jyn and now that he has, he wants to take it back.

He feels his phone in his pocket, and he still has no idea what time it is. He sighs. “I should probably get going.”

“Are you sure? You can stay and nap if you want.”

Cassian shakes his head. “Nah, Bodhi’s probably worried about me.”

“Okay,” she says, and she nods. “I’ll walk you out.”

He feels strangely undone as they walk to the front door. He catches a glimpse of Kathy in the kitchen before turning down the bright hallway. Jyn faces him at the end, right by the door, and looks at him warily. She reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck.

“You promised,” she says.

He nods against her and presses his lips to her shoulder. When he pulls back he meets her eyes, and he hates the worry that lies in them. “Yeah, I promise.”

“I’m not upset about last night,” she says. “I’m glad it happened.”

He wants to say _me too_ but it’d be a lie, wouldn’t it? So he just nods again and says, “Bye Jyn,” before he leaves.

\--

Cassian feels cold all over. It’s not even the morning air or the empty sun, it’s just everything, everything, everything--it comes at him from everywhere at once and washes over his tired body.

Or maybe he feels numb. He’s not sure. He’s not even really thinking about anything at all; he walks along the sidewalk and pretends that none of it matters, that he can be okay about everything, move on, and be done with it.

No...maybe that isn’t what he wants.

He sighs to himself as he checks to see if any cars are coming before he crosses the street. The sun angles higher in the sky but clouds have rolled in and covered it, creating a blanket of cold light that sits as heavy as his mood.

Maybe it’s just too much to think about. Maybe it isn’t about what he wants but how he reacts to the situation, or maybe none of it really matters in the first place.

 _Maybe, maybe, maybe._ Is that all he has?

If he has to define it, he feels like an absolute idiot. Because that’s the thing--he should’ve known that with Jyn that it wouldn’t be like that. The way she shifts and evades, the way her words come tumbling out or stop altogether. All these moments that they’ve spent together, she was never interested in being more than friends. It was Cassian who read into it, drew it into something different, and placed it before her.

She kissed him, but he was the one who asked for it to mean something.

His street is silent, and the sight of his apartment doesn’t do anything to affect him, he just feels the weight of last night and this morning dragging him back to the place where Jyn is. Back to the moment he spilled those stupid words from his lips--and if only he could take it back.

 _I want to kiss you_.  

\--

Still distracted by his thoughts, Cassian enters the apartment and blindly wanders towards his bedroom. He sits at the edge of his bed for a moment, looking over at the jacket laid out next to him. His mind draws back to that store where he bought it and the way the lights painted all wrong shadows on his face. Life was different then, it’s just a matter of a few weeks, but still different.

Halloween night, cold and unexpected, it sent him here, exactly.

With exhaustion finally settling into his bones, Cassian lays back, kicking off his shoes and settling his head against his pillow. It comes over him at once, and his eyes fall closed, blinking back the color blue before slipping into sleep.

\--

When he awakes, it’s to the sight of Bodhi laying next to him. He’s stretched out on top of Cassian’s blankets, but his head rests on the unused pillow and he’s on his phone. He shifts to face Cassian at the sound of him stirring awake.

“Someone didn’t come home last night,” he nearly sings. His lips pull into a smile, but it dissipates the longer he looks at Cassian. “You don’t look so good, pal.”

“No?” he asks, pulling the blanket up from where it slid off of his shoulder. “I don’t feel so good, either.”

It’s true, his stomach still hasn’t settled down and, if possible, his neck hurts even more now that’s he’s laid on an actual pillow, as if mocking his poor choices from last night.

“What happened?” Bodhi asks.

“Nothing,” Cassian answers, then squints his eyes. “Well, not nothing, but it’s nothing now.”

“That’s a peculiar way to explain it.”

Cassian blinks his eyes back open, finally smiling at Bodhi, who’s still watching him carefully. The light bends in through the blinds, still dull and quiet from the clouds, but it blurs its way into the room and over Bodhi, making him look soft and hazy. His eyelashes catch just a fraction of the light and it makes Cassian stop for a second.

“I kissed her,” he explains, looking down at the blanket because he doesn’t want to see Bodhi’s reaction. “In a treehouse, of all places. God. It was just--yeah, we fell asleep and I went over her house this morning. Then, I don’t know, she gave me my jacket back and I thought, for whatever reason, that it would be a good idea to talk about it.”

His mind drifts back to her room, the way her lips turned down at the corners, and the way that the cold drifted through him on his walk back home. It’s only Bodhi’s voice that brings him back to the present.

“And?” he prompts. Cassian looks up at him but his face is hard to read. 

“I told her how I felt, she said she didn’t want to be in a relationship, and here we are.”

Even saying the words makes them echo hollowly in his chest. Bodhi frowns at him but he doesn’t say anything at first. The silence stretches on and Cassian feels helpless against it.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Bodhi finally settles on, and Cassian blinks his eyes at him. Confused.

“What?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Just--seeing her with you last night, and the way you two act when you’re around each other...I’ve known Jyn my entire life, but she’s so different when she’s with you.”

Cassian refuses to feel hope because of that. Like he explained to Leia, he and Jyn just really get along. He shouldn’t have pushed it to be something that it isn’t, and he can’t take Bodhi’s words and try to reexamine what happened between them because it’ll just confuse him even more. There’s just last night and just a kiss that doesn’t matter now.

There’s something else, though.

“Bodhi,” he says softly, and waits for Bodhi to look at him before he ventures further. “What really happened between you and Jyn?”

Bodhi makes a small noise, something short and indecisive as he turns onto his back and looks at the ceiling. “That’s not my story alone, Cass. I don’t know how she’d feel about me telling you.”

“Come on,” he pushes, because a few weeks ago he was okay with letting it go, but now it’s starting to feel like he’s missing vital pieces of information. As if it’s all breaking apart around him and these answers are the only way to make sense of it. “You said something happened with her father a few years ago, and Leia said that you guys had a falling out senior year of high school. I overheard you two last week when she came over and it didn’t sound friendly. So I’m sorry, but what’s up?”

“It’s not her dad, I don’t know why I told you that,” he says. “I don’t even know what happened to her dad. He was out of the picture before I ever became friends with her.”

Cassian squints his eyes and gazes at the wall distractedly. He sort of figured that, but for that long? Bodhi’s know Jyn since they were kids. If _he_ doesn’t even know what happened to her dad, Cassian’s doubtful that he’ll ever find out.

But then he thinks back to his and Jyn’s conversation in her room earlier and asks, “What about her mom?”

“I think she passed away when Jyn was really young, I’m not sure.”

He focuses his attention on Bodhi. Maybe his brain’s too tired to make sense of this. If both of her parents were gone at an early age, and Jyn’s only been living with her aunt for two years, then what?

“What?” he asks aloud.

“There’s someone else,” Bodhi explains. “Saw Gerrera. Apparently he was good friends with her dad and ended up raising her when he went away.”

“So her dad’s still alive?”

“I’m pretty sure, but to tell you the truth, I don’t think Jyn even knows the answer to that question.”

And no, this isn’t sitting right with Cassian. This isn’t what he asked for. “What about the two of you, though?”

“Well this is where I come in. We sat next to each other in third grade and became best friends instantly. You know what it’s like to be around her. We’d spend every afternoon together, grew up, became like family. She was always, always there for me, and Saw--he practically raised me because I was around so much. He was such a good guy.”

Bodhi pauses for a long time, then continues, “You know, my father wasn’t around, but I never felt like I was missing out. I love my mother more than anyone, but you need a dad sometimes, and he always offered that support. He was the one who taught me how to ride a bike, how to shave, how to talk to girls--like that did me any good. But um, when he got really sick during junior year, Jyn and I both took it really hard.”

Cassian’s regretting asking, but there’s something about a disaster that you need to watch. You need to keep your eyes on it. Bodhi looks ready to break apart, he swallows roughly and presses his lips together, eyes still trained on the ceiling.

“What happened?” Cassian asks with dread pooling in his stomach, sick and heavy.

“Don’t worry, he’s still alive,” Bodhi answers, blinking away the light that streams in a little stronger now. “But he was in and out of the hospital for a year or so before he told Jyn that he couldn’t take care of her anymore. It made sense, he couldn’t look after her when he needed so much help himself.”

“I don’t imagine that she took that well,” Cassian guesses. His heart aches for Jyn.

“No,” Bodhi says sadly, his gaze distant and hard. “Not at all.”

“Is that when you guys stopped talking to each other?”

“Yeah,” he says. “She didn’t want people to know what happened, no one even knew he was sick, except for me. I guess I was an easy target. I went over her house right after she moved in with her aunt, and she just...lost it. She kept saying that she didn’t need me. We both ended up yelling and finally she told me to get out of her life.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassian says, for bringing it up or for what happened. He isn’t sure. The words sort of tumble out of his mouth, helpless and confused.

Bodhi shakes his head once, just a small, sharp movement. “It still hurts Cass, that’s the thing. No one ever talks about how much it hurts to lose a friend.”

“She never came around?” he asks, biting his lip.

“No, she did. At first I thought she would apologize and that we’d figure things out together, that we’d still be friends, but she meant it. She used to come over my house for dinner every Sunday night, and the first time she didn’t come was when it really hit me. After that there was nothing, and I stopped expecting anything. I was so angry. I couldn’t believe that she could drop ten years of friendship over one argument. But I was stupid. The summer after we graduated she wanted to talk, but I wouldn’t.”

His chest feels tighter the longer he watches Bodhi, who pauses to turn onto his side to face Cassian.

“I guess I wanted to hurt her like she hurt me, but I knew she was already in a lot of pain. It was so, so stupid. We never recovered.”

“So that’s where you’ve been since then?”

“Yeah. I wanted to call her when my mom moved to Boston with the boys, but I never did. I didn’t want to ask for something I wasn’t sure she could give.”

 _Comfort_ , Cassian thinks, and he watches him. He watches the sadness in Bodhi’s eyes and reaches out to touch his back. It’s an almost embrace, Cassian has his arm curled around him and starts to rub circles where his hand meets Bodhi’s shirt, much like Jyn does for him.  

And Jyn--he wants to be mad at her for it, for cutting Bodhi out of her life like that, but he doesn’t think he can. He feels sorry for both of them, that they had to deal with a loss like that but couldn’t deal with it together.

Bodhi’s head tilts up to look at him, and he didn’t realize how close they are. “It was nice, though,” he goes on. “The other day. I know it’ll never be the same, but it made me realize that it could be different. I don’t think we’ll ever be like we used to, but maybe there’s something left to be recovered.”

“You think?”

“Yeah,” Bodhi says, and his voice is softer as his eyes dip closed. Cassian keeps rubbing his back. “You know, I was probably wrong to warn you about her.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t know her anymore. I was just telling you something based on my experience, and my perspective of her, which was probably skewed by how things ended between us. I don’t know how it changed her.”

And Cassian--tired, overwhelmed, and hungover, tries to process all of this. He tries to connect the pieces where Jyn has left gaps, and he wants to go over every detail, to look at it all in a way that would make sense with this falling out between her and Bodhi, but he just can’t. It’s too much information to process, he’s a slow computer trying to run a high speed program, and it doesn’t work.

He lets his hand still, but he leaves it on Bodhi’s back. A certain silence washes over them, and the only thing left on Cassian’s mind is, _I don’t know how it changed her_.

\--

There’s a clock above the kitchen table.

Baze and Chirrut’s kitchen table, more specifically, and it’s on the wall across from where Cassian’s sitting, high enough that he has to angle his head up to look at it. It’s another Monday afternoon and Baze is in the seat next to him, typing up part of their project on his laptop while Cassian’s notebook sits open and unused.

His hands idly fiddle with the corners of the pages, but his eyes drift towards the clock and they never really drift away. It’s only four thirty, but that isn’t what’s distracting him. It’s a basic clock: black rim, straight black hands, and a little red arrow that circles around the center every minute, but that isn’t it either.

What’s interesting: there’s a picture of Danny Devito taped right below the number six, smiling wide. It must be an old picture, because his hair is still dark and spirals wildly away from his head.  

It feels out of place, but at the same time it doesn’t. Not really.

“Are you okay?” he hears Baze ask, and it take a second for Cassian to turn his head towards him.

Baze watches him carefully, and Cassian just nods. “Yeah, fine.”

“Distracted?”

“Yeah, actually. You’ve, um, got Danny Devito taped to your clock.”

Baze doesn’t even glance at it, he just keeps watching Cassian, and it’s a little uncomfortable. He looks down at the empty notebook and then up at Baze, who says, “My little sister’s a fan.”

“You’re a good brother,” Cassian responds, smiling to himself. “My little sister’s a fan of Shawn Mendes, but I don’t know if I would tape a picture of him to my clock.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

Cassian shrugs. “It’s not important.”

Finally Baze leans back in his seat and explains, “I wasn’t the one who put it up there. Every time I take it down it ends up somewhere new. When she visits I watch her carefully, but I’ve never seen her do it. I’ve given up on trying to stop her, so this is where he stays.”

“She’s a good little sister,” Cassian offers, smiling to himself. As much as he loves Casey, she does annoy him more than anyone else in the world, but that’s her job.  

“You’re okay, though?”

“Fine,” Cassian insists, feeling a little irritated. “Do I seem like I’m not okay?”

“Not necessarily,” Baze says.

Cassian raises a brow, but he’s not going to push it. Baze watches him a little longer, but then he looks back down at his computer and types out part of their outline. Cassian opens their textbook and attempts to read, but it doesn’t do him any good, so he mostly pretends until enough time passes that he can look up at Baze curiously.

He’s typing away, and his expression doesn’t say much, but it still strikes Cassian as odd.

Well, what else is new?

\-- 

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _If I’m remembering correctly, I owe you a pizza and you owe me ice cream_  
_...  
Tomorrow night?_

Cassian squints at his phone screen. He's just turned off his bedroom lights when his phone vibrates with Jyn's message, and it hurts because there's always that blanket darkness at first. Everything is pitch black until your eyes can adjust and pick out the areas where shadow can't touch everything.

He thinks about racing Jyn to the swings and the panic that he felt when she fell off. It's only been a few days but he misses her--does that say something about him? His most recent memory of her is saying goodbye at her door, with no idea whether or not they'll be able to be friends after their conversation in her room.

And this is it, isn't it? This is where he makes the conscious decision to move on. This is where he decides that spending time with Jyn is more important than dating Jyn.

He clicks on the message to answer it, but he falters as he begins to type out a response. His mind flashes back to Bodhi explaining what happened between them. There's a level of uneasiness that that leaves him with, a certain unsurety that he doesn't know how to define.

He doesn't know how he'll feel when he sees her again.

The screen doesn't seem as bright the longer he takes to think about his answer. He doesn't know how to move forward, but the thought of saying no to her makes him feel sick to his stomach.

So he takes a deep breath. 

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _Pick you up at 7?_

\--

And okay, he thought he’d be more nervous than he is. The car runs and the headlights strike the front of her house and Cassian knows this place by heart now. He knows the American flag that hits the front porch beam when the wind knocks against it, and he knows the short hedge that sits on either side of the front walk. He remembers the feeling of being inside the house and now, sitting here, he feels like he’s in between the two states: not quite belonging inside but too close to stay outside.

But his hands are steady and his shoulders stay relaxed. A large part of him feels so much better knowing where they stand, because at least now he doesn’t have to wonder.

The yellow door swings shut behind her, and she crosses in front of the headlights with her features neutral and focused ahead of her. When she gets in the car she takes a second to herself, pulling on her seatbelt and adjusting her wool coat before she looks over at him.

“Hi,” she says, and her eyes watch him warily, but when he smiles at her she seems to relax a little bit. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” he says, and puts the car in reverse, sparing another glance at that yellow door. Tilting his head towards the back of the car, he glances at her and says, “I’m ready to be wowed by some pizza. I assume you’re taking me to the best that Whitebridge has to offer.”

“I really am, though,” she says. “I’m sure Bodhi makes you get pizza from Bruno's, but that place is trash compared to Vanetti’s. Nothing can compare to Vanetti’s. Someday I’m going to go to Italy just to prove that.”

“You feel that strongly?”

“When it comes to pizza, you have to.”

He laughs, because it’s ridiculous, but it also makes him feel normal--which he needed. That knot of unease that’s been sitting in his stomach since Saturday morning loosens a little. He just didn’t know what it would be like, but he can deal with this. He pushes his turn signal to turn right onto the main road, and shrugs. “I like Bruno’s.”

“You know, maybe you should just let me out right here.”

“I’m not stopping the car,” he says, foot steady on the gas pedal. In his peripheral he can see her shake a hand through her hair.

“That’s okay, just slow down a little. I’ll roll out.”

“Yeah, but then I’d have to watch you in the rearview, and that’s technically distracted driving. You should be more considerate of other people, Jyn.”

“Well you shouldn’t force your passengers out of a moving vehicle, Cass.”

“No one’s forcing you to do anything.”

“Your opinion is.”

“Maybe you should get over it.”

“Maybe you should shut up,” she says, and then she laughs. He looks over at her and she’s still smiling but it turns into a wince. ”Too far, sorry.”

“Eh,” he says. “It could’ve gone further, I’m more concerned about your lack of creativity.”

“I’ll show you a lack of creativity.”

He slows down at a stop light, waiting for her to follow up with something but she stays quiet next to him. He lets out an amused breath. “What? Was....that it?”

“Exactly.”

“You make no sense. I like it, but it makes no sense.”

“Honestly, when do I ever make sense?”

“I can’t think of a single instance.”

“Shh stop, you’re so mean,” she says and she pushes at his shoulder. He laughs and shrugs away, looking up at her for just a brief moment, just a second, and the way that the headlights and streetlights rush in through the windshield and weave around the shadows of her face takes his breath away.

“I’m mean?” he forces himself to joke, blinking back towards the road. “You’re the one who was going to jump out of a moving car in order to get away from me.”

“I still might,” she says, but they let the conversation drop as he takes a left into the mostly full parking lot. It’s a small brick building that sits alone, and it has wide windows with large wooden shutters. Under the black moulding on top, there’s a sign that says _Vanetti’s_ in red scrawl, and Cassian raises a brow at her, putting his hand on the car door handle. “You know,” he says, “you’ve gotten my hopes up about this place. My expectations could not be higher right now.”

“That’s because it’s going to exceed them,” she says, and leaves the car. She meets him around the front and says, “I only brag about things that I know will deliver.”

He rolls his eyes, but he wraps an arm around her shoulders anyway, pulling her closer. He doesn’t know why he does it, as if being let off the hook for being in a relationship allows him to--it should probably have the opposite effect, to be honest--but Jyn responds by wrapping her arm around his waist, and he takes that as confirmation that it’s okay.

They walk towards the door with their sides pressed together, and it’s a little bulky from their heavy coats, but it’s comfortable despite the fact that it shouldn’t be. Cassian holds the door open for her, trying to push back the thought that this feels a lot like a date.

Because it’s definitely not.

Inside, the restaurant is cozy and full of people. Between warm wooden tables and a fireplace that appears to be real, there’s a greeter who brings them to a table tucked in the back. Jyn and Cassian sit on either side, and there’s a candle on the table that sits next to a glass olive oil container. The flame jumps around a little, dropping its light onto the glass and warming it up.  

“This isn’t what I was expecting,” he says once they’re alone. He feels inadequate in his jeans and sweatshirt, thinking about Bruno’s and their deli counter storefront uptown. “This is like, a nice restaurant.”

“They serve pizza,” she says flatly, keeping her eyes on the menu in front of her.

“Okay,” he says, drawing the word out. He glances down at the menu but he feels unfocused, so he looks up at her and asks, “So what makes this it superior, anyway?”

“I’m glad you asked,” she says, perking up immediately. “Let me tell you about Marco Vanetti. He moved here from Italy in 1951 and still speaks broken English. Everything on the menu is his late mother's recipe, and he only uses the absolute freshest ingredients. Forget that nasty canned tomato sauce from Bruno's, you're about to get your mind blown. This guy is a genius, he might actually be the love of my life. I honestly can’t say enough about him."

“I can tell,” Cassian says, completely amused. “Do you like, actually know him?”

She looks a little embarrassed. “I’ve only met him a few times, but I see him around town a lot. He’s such a cute little old man, he’s one of those people that makes you happy just by looking at them, you know?”

“So is that why you brought me here? Hoping to catch a glimpse of Marco Vanetti?”

“No,” she says firmly, jutting her chin out a little.

“I bet that the food’s not even that good.”

“That’s the ugliest thing you’ve ever said, Andor.”

His laugh comes out as a sharp bark. “Your passion for this pizza is truly unparalleled.”

“Well it’s good.”

“Oh wait, Jyn, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Do they have good pizza here?”

“I’m about to move to that table right there,” she says, nodding her head towards the empty table next to them. Cassian raises his brows but Jyn just rolls her eyes. “Anyway, what kind of toppings do you like? This waitress is going to come over any second.”

He glances up at a waitress a few tables over, talking animatedly with a couple there. “I don’t know,” he says. “You can tell a lot about a pizza based on how good it is plain. There’s nowhere for the flavor to hide.”

She snorts. “Okay, but say we get two pizzas, and one is cheese and the other has to have a topping on it--any topping you’d like--what would it be?”

“I know what it would be, but you’re either going to love me or hate me for it.”

“Unless it’s like, green beans, I think we’ll be okay.”

“What are you talking about? I love green bean pizza.”

“You love crap,” she says. “Come on, tell me your polarizing idea.”

“I’m just saying, people get very opinionated about pineapples on pizza.”

She hums to herself and looks at him curiously. “You know, I’ve never tried it.”

“No?”

“It seems weird. Fruit doesn’t belong on a pizza.”

“Once upon a time I felt the same way,” he says. “Then I tried it.”

“Yeah, but you also like Bruno’s, so I don’t know if I can trust your opinion.”

He laughs. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” she says, but the waitress interrupts them and asks for their order. Cassian looks up at her--Jessica, her name tag reads--but his gaze inevitably falls back to Jyn, watching the trace of a smile on her lips as speaks.

This girl...

\-- 

They end up just getting a cheese pizza because--as Jyn insisted--they need to leave room for ice cream.

After he begrudgingly admits how good it is, dinner goes by with ease. The lights of the restaurant are low, and the candle between them keeps painting its light against Jyn, it hovers against her neck, her chin, her lips; distracting but lovely. Talking with her is engaging, as usual, they argue and they laugh and everything feels like it’s fallen back into place--

As if it all got shuffled up, mixed up, and confused, but now it’s clicked back together again. They’ll be okay.  

\--

Cassian walks behind Jyn on their way back to the car, feeling incredibly full and incredibly happy.

It’s just--he thought things would be over between them after Saturday morning. Maybe it’s because in the past after those kind of conversations things _did_ change despite promising not to, and while he didn’t want that with Jyn, he kind of expected it, in a way.

But so far things have surprisingly been _better_. Maybe it’s just the way that they’re growing closer, or maybe it’s his own mind relaxing and trying not to read into every little detail. Maybe it’s knowing what happened between Jyn and Bodhi, allowing him to stop wondering what could be so bad that he’d have to be careful around her. Now, each casual touch becomes less noticeable and more comfortable, now they can just be what they are instead of what they could potentially be.

“So I promised you ice cream,” he says, turning the key in the ignition. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

She raises a brow but ends up shaking her head. “I chose the pizza, I think it should be up to you.”

“I don’t eat that much ice cream, though. I don’t know what’s good around here.”

“You just don't want to make a decision.”

“Well that too. Plus it’s November, is anything even open?”

“I know Sugar Meadow is, but it closes at eight, so that’s no good.”

A moment of quiet sits between them as they think about it. Cassian feels pretty limited with his options, but as he filters through them he comes up with an idea: ”I know where we can go.”

He says this as he straps on his seatbelt. Backing out of his parking space, he catches a glimpse of Jyn raising a brow at him.

“I’m intrigued,” she says, a smile tipping the words.

“You should be.”

He leans forward over the steering wheel in order to pull out of the lot. The main street is busier at this time of night but not too bad. It’s fully dark now, and he stares into the oncoming headlights, waiting for a suitable gap to pull out.

They pull into another parking lot less than ten minutes later, and Jyn snorts to herself.

“Price Chopper?” she asks, raising a brow. It’s the same plaza he was in with Bodhi those few weeks ago, buying his Halloween costume, and he’s always loved the way it looks at night: a field of streetlamps and all the cars sporadically laid out across the wide empty space. The neon lights of the stores flinging themselves brightly against the blue black sky.

“The one and only,” he says, parking some distance away from the grocery store, so that they’re all alone. “Come on.”

There’s just the sound of their footsteps against the pavement, and Jyn reaches towards him and threads her fingers through his. He looks over at her, and the passing streetlamp ghosts over her face, drawing across her features and back to the dark again, but that moment--just that glimpse--is the softest he’s ever seen her smile.

“So why Price Chopper?” she asks.

“It’s open, they have a million flavors, and you get way more ice cream for way less.”

“That’s valid,” she says, and she smiles, swinging their arms between them. “This is great, I’m excited now.”

The automatic doors slide open and there are those fluorescent lights again. There's something so wonderful about the way the whole store glows white yellow while the dark sky sits on the other side of the windows. It's mostly empty, save for stray shoppers and a cashier who waves at Jyn.

Bright lights, yeah, it's cozy in a way that it shouldn't be. The green yellow tiles below them reflect the lights above them and Cassian's warm in his jacket as they walk towards the frozen section. They're still holding hands, and Jyn tells him about one time that her and Luke grabbed a box of cereal here and the entire shelf fell down.

They finally part when they get to the freezers containing all the different flavors and options. Jyn opens the doors to better inspect them, but Cassian stays back because he likes watching all the frozen air pour out around the shape of her, and it's Jyn's decision, anyway.

"Do I want strawberry?" she asks. She turns to face him, holding the door open with her hip as she shows him a pink carton that's small enough to fit in the palm of her hand.

"You wanted cookie dough the other night."

She lets the freezer door shut, still holding the carton. "That was the other night," she explains. "Right now I think I want strawberry."

"It's up to you," he says. She looks at the carton and purses her lips, looking up at him before taking his hand again, and this time her skin is cold but Cassian can't complain.

"Come on, we need spoons," she says, and guides him to the paper goods aisle. He's not unaware of people looking their way as they pass, but he doesn't care right now. There's stacks of paper towels and paper plates, and plastic silverware that has Jyn frowning to herself. "Do you think they'd be mad if we took just two spoons? We don't need a box of fifty."

"I don't think anyone would appreciate being sold a box of forty-eight spoons."

"You really think two spoons will make a difference?"

"Yes."

"So what do you want to do?" she asks.

"Just get the box, it’s like two dollars."

She raises her brows but lets go of his hand to grab it. "Hey big spender."

He laughs, but he winks at her and says, "You're worth it."

"Quite the charmer, you are."

They buy the ice cream and the box of spoons and the cashier puts it in a brown paper bag that's at least five sizes too big. Jyn clutches it against her chest anyway and they leave the fluorescent lights behind them.

When they reach the car Jyn doesn't get inside, instead she hops up onto the front hood and tucks her legs underneath her. She gives him a look like, _are you going to join me?_ , and--as usual--he's helpless not to follow her lead.

As he scoots next to her, she pulls the ice cream out of the bag and two plastic spoons, handing him one before pulling the top off of the carton. Away from the lights of the parking lot the pink ice cream looks purple, and Jyn sits it between the two of them.

The plaza lights echo across the empty parking lot like something holy, something telling him that he’s supposed to be here. It’s the edge of deep night, the place where they’ve been lost before and anything can happen. Anything can come alive, wake up, and say, _this is where you’re going now._ There’s the smooth plastic spoon in his hand and the carton of ice cream sat between them. It’s not warm enough for it to melt, or to even justify eating it, but there’s something about the moment that roots him in this place and draws out the desire to stay.

They talk and they talk, and then they don’t talk, and all of it feels like a dream. All of it is sugar sweet, strawberries and vanilla, and it’s good in a way that Cassian can’t describe because it feels whole. It feels like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

\--

They have the radio playing on the drive home. Cassian has his window cracked because the car felt too stuffy when he got in and the heat just makes that worse. The streets of Whitebridge move quickly past them, and Jyn’s humming along to the song that’s playing--Cassian doesn’t recognize it--before she lets her head drop back onto the seat. They’re almost at her house, but she makes a small sound and says, “Oh my God, I totally forgot. I’m supposed to stay at Leia’s house tonight.”

“Are you late?” he asks, looking at the clock on the dashboard. It’s 10:22.

“No, not really. She wasn’t expecting me at a certain time or anything,” she says. “Would you mind driving me there?”

“Yeah, no problem,” he says, even though they’re literally at Jyn’s house. Leia’s house isn’t far from here--no one’s house is far from here, honestly.

“I mean you could let me out here, I don’t mind walk--”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts, because he could probably go the rest of his life without hearing Jyn say that she could walk somewhere when he’s perfectly capable of driving her.

“Fine,” she says. Then, “I’ll text her and let her know that I’m on my way. I’m supposed to be helping her housesit.”

“She’s housesitting her own house? Isn’t that just...being alive?”

“Technically, I guess. Her whole family goes on a fishing trip every November, but she stayed back this year and I think Han went with them instead. I don’t know, it’s this whole thing and she’ll be alone, so I offered to stay with her and keep her company.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“Oh yeah, I’m an angel.”

He laughs. “Kathy’s leaving as well, right?”

“Yeah, her conference starts on Thursday and goes through Monday, but she’s staying until the following weekend because she has family out there and you know, it’s going to be Thanksgiving and all that.”

“Where does that leave you?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” she says with a tiny laugh. “I was thinking of asking Baze and Chirrut if they’ll be around. I know that sometimes they go to Manchester to visit Baze’s family, but we’ll see.”

Cassian hums to himself.

“You must be excited to go home, though,” she says.

“Yeah,” he answers absently, thinking back to his conversation with Bodhi the other morning. He can’t really stomach the idea of Jyn being alone for the holiday, but he’s not sure if it’s something he could fix for her. He could, technically, talk to his mom about it--

Right. He has to think about that one.

The subject gets dropped though, as they pull up to Leia’s house. The front porch lights are on and his headlights wash over the front of the house, making the blue clapboards look electric.

“Do you want to come in?” she asks. “I’m sure Leia won’t mind hanging out.”

Cassian doesn’t think he has the energy to deal with both Leia and Jyn tonight, especially since he has to go to school early tomorrow to meet with his professor. He shakes his head. “I haven’t done any of the reading for my class tomorrow, so I should probably get home.”

“Okay,” she says, a little disappointed. Then she smiles at him and it’s so nice, it’s so nice. She leans over the center console and kisses his cheek, right at the edge of his stubble and pulls back, looking into his eyes. “Thank you for everything tonight.”

“Of course,” he says, a little thrown off. “Anytime.”

He watches her leave, and this familiar feeling comes back to him.

He doesn’t know what to make of it anymore.

\--

The call comes Wednesday night.

It’s only a little after eight and Cassian’s at the table, working on his homework for accounting. K2 is in the corner of the room, batting his little paws at the empty air. Every time he makes too much noise he stops immediately and looks up at Cassian like he’s the most innocent cat in the world.

It’s not that convincing.

But then the phone rings. Cassian doesn’t think anything of it at first because he usually gets calls from unknown numbers, so it takes him a moment before he checks to see who’s calling. He frowns when he sees Jyn’s name on the screen, and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Are you home right now?” Jyn asks immediately, and there’s a sense of panic in her voice that automatically rushes through Cassian.

“Yeah, why? What’s up?”

“Luke had an accident,” she says, and there’s a small pause before she continues. “Something about hypothermia, we don’t have any details yet, but he’s at a hospital right now and Leia’s freaking out. Honestly, I’m kind of freaking out too, and she wants to go see him tonight but neither of us can drive and her parents aren’t home and you’re the first person I thought of--”

“I’ll do it,” he says, sensing the question coming. “I’ll drive you.”

“Really?” she asks, and Cassian’s already closing his book and racing for his keys, wallet, and jacket.

He has to juggle the phone as he shrugs his jacket on, one sleeve hangs awkwardly behind him as he uses his shoulder to balance it against his ear. “Yeah, give me five minutes to be there. Do you know what hospital he’s in?”

The apartment door slams shut behind him, but Jyn’s voice is clear in his ear when she says, “He’s in Maine.”

“Maine?” he asks.

“They’re still on their fishing trip. It should be less than a five hour drive,” she says, “but that’s still really far away and I understand if that’s an issue for you. This is a huge favor, I promise I won’t blame you if you don’t want to go.”

He’s more startled by how cold it is outside. He has to race to his car as stray snowflakes fall around him, sticking to his bare hands. “Shoot,” he says under his breath, which fans out in front of him like smoke. He fumbles with his car keys, wishing that he brought his gloves with him. It’s no warmer inside his car, but he keeps his phone pressed to his ear as he starts the ignition. “He’s her brother. I’m already on my way, Jyn. You’re still at Leia’s, right?”

“Yeah. I swear, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Leia really has me worried right now, I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Just stay with her, okay? I should be there in a matter of minutes,” he says as he backs out of the drive. “We’ll get there, and it’s going to be alright.”

“Thank you,” she says in a small voice. “I’ll pack up some of Leia’s stuff, I’ll see you in a few.”

They hang up and Cassian tosses his phone onto the passenger seat in frustration. It’s not snowing hard enough that he needs the windshield wipers, but they’re on anyway. Everything feels surreal, like a bad dream, and Cassian doesn’t know how to process this information. To think that Luke’s in danger--bright and carefree Luke, who was just setting off firecrackers in his backyard--it seems so unfair.

And the thing is, if all of this makes Cassian’s hands shake and his stomach churn uneasily, then he can’t even imagine what Leia and Jyn are going through right now.

There aren’t any lights on at the Skywalker house, which makes it feel even more bizarre. He pulls up, and his headlights expose the dark house. That same blue doesn’t seem electric this time, but rather something that’s unmasked in the light, something that isn’t meant to be seen. He texts Jyn to let them know that he’s here, and it’s just a minute later that Leia comes out, Jyn just a step behind her. Cassian unbuckles his seatbelt and joins them outside, taking the large duffle bag from Jyn and walking around the back of the car to put it in the trunk.

Jyn stays close, and the brake lights swoop up and paint the side of her face red. It doesn’t hide the worry in her eyes, but she presses her lips into a small smile and says,  “Thank you.”

The trunk creaks as it slams closed and Cassian watches her carefully. He knows that they have to get going, but he reaches out and places his hand on her shoulder. He doesn’t know how to answer, and he’s certainly not going to say _you’re welcome_ , so he squeezes her shoulder and nods his head towards the car. “Come on.”

Leia’s already in the back seat when he gets in. He looks at her through the rearview, and if he didn’t know Leia, he probably wouldn’t guess that she’s freaking out. She’s so cool on the exterior, but her eyes are turned towards the window, wide and unfocused. Her hand clutches her phone tightly, and she presses her lips together into a small line before covering her mouth with her other hand. He knows Leia, she’s one of the first people to become his friend in Whitebridge, and he’s never seen her as anything other than assured and confident.

It’s unsettling, to say the least.

Jyn gets into the passenger seat, right where she belongs, and Cassian backs down the drive. He feels like he should say something, even though he knows it probably won’t help, so he offers, “It’s gonna be okay.”

He looks over at Jyn, who nods and glances over her shoulder at Leia. “It will be. Luke’s a Skywalker, we all know that means he’s too stubborn to let anything like this hurt him.”

“What happened?” he asks quietly, because Leia hums at them and looks down at her phone, typing a message out quickly. The light reaches up and highlights where her brows are furrowed

“He fell through the ice,” Jyn answers, just as quietly. “I want to be mad at him because apparently he was out alone when it happened, but I can’t. It’s too serious.”

“Yeah,” he says sympathetically, because there’s not much he can do at this point except drive. Leia’s silent in the back seat, and the streets are relatively empty, which isn’t exactly unusual for a Wednesday evening. It’s only a little past eight and Cassian hands Jyn his phone. “Can you look up directions to the hospital for me?”

“Sure.”

“And can you text Bodhi and let him know what’s up?”

She only hums in agreement, her usual energy flattened into something dull and accepting.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, and the three of them are very quiet for a very long time. Only the sound of Jyn’s voice giving him directions breaks up the hum of the car moving forward into the night.  

The highway stretches out ahead of them, busier now the further they get away from Whitebridge. Hypnosis. The silence stretches out even further ahead, dragged down only by the general hum of anxiety and fear that makes the air around them tremble. Cassian feels it in his hands, he grips the steering wheel tightly and tries to focus, but his thoughts constantly drift back towards the _what ifs_ , and he knows he can’t go there.

Next to him, Jyn bobbles her knee up and down, clutching his phone in one hand and resting her head against the other. Once they get onto Rt. 91 there aren’t any directions to follow for some time, so the screen goes black and they sit in the dark. All the light stretches out ahead.

Cassian tries not to glance in the rearview. Leia is the picture of stoic, but it’s threatening to fall apart. Stray light brushes over her features every now and then, highlighting her distant gaze.

It’s frustrating, but there’s nothing he can do but keep driving.

\--

It’s close to ten o’clock when he reaches over to touch Jyn’s wrist. She has her eyes closed but she stirs at the contact.

“Jyn,” he says softly, because the silence threatens to fall apart and for some reason he wants to stay in this fragile state. “Can you tell me how much further it is to the next gas station?”

“Yeah,” she answers. “Are you running low?”

“We can make it a little longer but I think it’s a good idea to take a break. I need to stretch my legs.”

She hums in agreement. “I could use a coffee.”

Cassian doesn’t really know where he is but he gets off at the next exit, curving around the dark space into a less dark space. The stop light casts a field of red over the hood of his car, the light scatters in through the windshield, but Cassian keeps his eyes on the way it hits the edge of the steering wheel. He kind of wishes it was earlier, at least to see the mountains, which loom darkly above them. They’re close to the New Hampshire border, and he knows how beautiful this area is, but he figures it would be lost on him right now, anyway.

The red triangle of the Citgo sign beams its light like a beacon. The whole gas station glows with an eerie, radiant light, and Cassian squint his eyes against it. He and Jyn unbuckle their seatbelts at the same time, and she looks over at him. “Three coffees? Or should I make yours a tea?”

“Coffee’s good, tea might make me too tired.”

“Noted,” she says. “Is there anything else you want? Leia, what about you?”

“I’m all set,” Leia answers.

Jyn looks at him and he knows the worry traced onto her features must be mirrored onto his own. He shakes his head minutely. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” she says. “Be back in a minute.”

His breath curls out in front of him as he waits for the gas to pump into his car. He crosses his arms over each other and bounces on his toes, just trying to keep circulation going. The cold is relentless, and the breeze pushes stray snowflakes under the cover of the gas station, which stick to the sleeves of his coat. Jyn returns while he’s still waiting, carrying a cardboard tray with three coffees in it. She hands him a styrofoam cup without a lid; the steam rises from it like a blessing. Immediately, it warms his hands.

“Thank you,” he says.

To his surprise, Jyn doesn’t get back in the car. She leans against it, next to him, and tips her head onto his shoulder. He leans back, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, and together they watch the numbers on the gas machine rise.

He stops when his tank is full, and it’s hard to separate from Jyn but they have to keep going. She goes back to the car and Cassian takes a sip of his coffee before returning the nozzle to the machine. He’s not much of a coffee drinker but it’s hot, and while he feels wide awake right now, he’s not sure how long that will last.

When he gets in the car both Jyn and Leia look up at him. He straps on his seatbelt and starts the car. “Ready?” he asks.

They both confirm their agreement, but Leia looks down at where her fingers play with the lid of her cup and says, “I just want to say thank you to you both. You didn’t have to do this.”

They pull out of the gas station and Jyn and Cassian both start to answer her at the same time.

“Anything for you,” Jyn says.

“It’s the least I can do.”

He catches the tail end of a smile on her lips as the car curves around the on ramp for the highway. Cassian’s leaning forward to see if anyone’s coming when Leia says, “I’ve been texting my dad, he said that Luke has severe hypothermia, they have him on an IV that’s giving him warm fluid.”

“That sounds promising,” Jyn says. “He’s exactly where he needs to be right now. They’ll take care of him. Do you know how long he was under?”

“Hard to tell,” she says, her voice only slightly shaky. “It was Han who found him and pulled him out.”

Cassian takes a second to be grateful for Han Solo. He can’t imagine what Leia must be feeling right now. They fall into silence again, but this time Jyn turns the radio on low so the soft sounds of music and pre-recorded radio hosts fill the car instead. In a way, it’s calming, a welcome distraction, but in another way it makes Cassian feel out of place.

The windshield wipers brush snow out of his line of vision, and he feels out of place.

\--

12:43 AM finds Cassian’s little car pulling into a hospital parking lot in Maine. His legs are restless, his head hurts, and his hands cramp from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, but they made it.

The three of them rush into the waiting room, which is nearly empty except for a couple talking in a pair of chairs at the back and Han Solo, folded up uncomfortably in a plastic chair.

At first Cassian thinks his eyes are closed, but then he realizes he’s just looking down at his phone. When he hears the sound of them approaching his head turns up towards them and he immediately springs from the chair and goes for Leia.

He wraps her up completely, and she lets him. She’s so much shorter than him, his neck cranes down when he kisses the top of her head, resting there while holding her tightly. Cassian glances over at Jyn, who looks equally worried and amused. He can relate.

“What room is he in?” Leia asks.

“112,” Han answers, and they finally part. “Your parents are with him right now, but they should be out soon.”

“I’m gonna--” she says, and they all nod in understanding before she goes to speak with the woman at the desk and disappears through the doors.

“Hey,” Han says to Jyn and Cassian, sitting back down in his chair.

They sit with him. Jyn asks, “So what really happened?”

He shrugs, and Cassian can see the exhaustion written all over him. “We were packed up for the day when he realized he left something behind. He went back for whatever it was, said he’d be quick, but he was gone for a while. It didn’t feel right. When I went back to check on him, he was, uh, struggling. I feel like I blacked out, it happened so fast. I remember pulling him out of the water, and how bad he was shaking, but not much else. I called for help, and now we’re here.”

“How’s he doing?” Cassian asks as Jyn scrubs a hand over her forehead. He puts a hand on her knee without even thinking.  

“They say he’s stable, but they’re taking it slow and warming him up through an IV, I think.”  
  
“Yeah, Leia mentioned that,” Jyn says.

Luke and Leia’s parents come out, a tall man with Luke’s sandy blonde hair and a petite woman who shares Leia’s looks, and if Cassian ever doubted that they were twins before, it all makes sense now. Worry sits plainly on their features, but they introduce themselves to Cassian and sit down with them.

Time passes slowly. Leia doesn’t come back out for a while, and Padme talks to Han while Anakin describes the type of fishing they do to Cassian and Jyn. Cassian pays attention the best that he can, but there’s only so much information he can take in right now and he’s starting to feel a little hazy.

It has to be after one by the time Leia finally emerges. Anakin and Padme both get up to hug her and ask her how she’s doing. She looks significantly better, though, her features are back to being alert and present, and she even smiles when Han calls her princess.

It’s really incredible to watch, just the way that they fit as a family. Cassian smiles to himself and turns to Jyn. “Do you have my phone?” he asks.

“Oh yeah,” she says, and pulls it out of her back pocket. “Sorry.”

“No worries.” It’s 1:37. He groans inwardly and knocks his shoulder against hers. “What time do you have to work tomorrow?”

“Nine,” she says with an exaggerated frown. “And there’s literally no way I could call out with this short of notice. We already have so few people working.”

“That sucks,” he says, and he knocks his shoulder against hers again.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t you have class in the morning?”

“Shoot,” he mutters. His philosophy class starts at 9:30. “We’re gonna have to drive back tonight, aren’t we?”

“If we leave by five we’d still make it in time,” she says. “If you want to take a quick nap.”

He thinks about it for a second, but there’s no way he could just take a nap. If he falls asleep, he’s going out cold. He sighs. “I’d rather sleep at home, to be honest.”

She nods, and says, “We should get going soon, then.”

They stay just a little longer before announcing that they’re leaving. They say their goodbyes, and Cassian’s surprised when Padme hugs him close.

“Please drive safely,” she says, still holding him around the middle. “Call us if you need anything.”

Cassian smiles to himself, staring blankly at the blue tiled floor beyond her shoulder. “Thank you.”

Anakin shakes his hand firmly and says, “Thanks for bringing Leia here safely.”

Cassian nods at him before looking for Jyn, who’s still being held by Padme. They make eye contact and she draws away, they both say their goodbyes to Han and Leia before waving and heading towards the door.

They’re just about to leave when he hears, “Cassian!” and turns around to see Leia jogging towards them.

“What--” he starts, but he’s interrupted by her wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, pressing her head against his chest. He automatically smiles, returning the gesture and squeezing her back.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice sincere and firm. “I can’t tell you how much this meant to me.”

“Of course,” he says, and he pulls back. He looks down at her, and surprisingly her eyes look a little watery. He pushes her hair behind her ear and says, “He’s going to be okay,”

She rolls her eyes and takes a step back. “I know.”

Cassian’s eye catches Jyn watching them from the side, her face a strange mix of emotions. Leia hugs her too and they all say their goodbyes one more time. He fishes the keys out of his pocket and turns to Jyn. “I’m going to need more coffee.”

“Good idea,” she says, and when they get to the car she half collapses into the passenger seat. Cassian doesn’t even start the engine, they just sit there for a long moment and he looks over at her. She offers him a weak smiles and says, “I can’t believe we’re about to drive home.”

“Ugh,” he groans, and despite his body telling him he should sleep, he starts the car and backs out of the parking spot.

“Actually, I can’t believe any of this happened,” she says. “It’s so surreal.”

“I’m just glad Han was there.”

“Me too,” she says. “I mean, he’s rough around the edges but he’s genuinely a good guy. I wish he and Leia would get their act together.”

“How long have they been like this?” he asks, thinking of all the arguments and bickering that he’s witnessed in this short time he’s lived here. He thinks about the glares and eye rolls, but he also thinks about the way he held her in the waiting room, the way they sometimes catch each other’s eye and smile softly. How could they fool themselves like this?

“As long as I can remember,” she answers. “I mean, he’s a few years older than us so we didn’t really start hanging out with him until like, eighth grade, but even then. Not much has changed.”

 _If anything were to happen between us, it would be a disaster_ , Leia had said last week. And maybe it doesn’t matter whether or not you think it would be a disaster, maybe it doesn’t matter what you say at all. Either way, something’s already happening.

Yeah, something's happening. 

\--

Five moments that happen while driving home on a lonely highway:

I.

At first: nothing. Steam rises from two styrofoam cups sitting between them, but the world is quiet beyond the car. There’s a sense of emptiness, and the light that alternates with the dark. Everything feels so much bigger than it is, despite the way that their surroundings pinpoint themselves to the space within Cassian’s headlights.

Yeah, light that stretches into nothing and pulls them forward. Light that breaks through the night but can’t stretch far enough to reach the other side. Light that stays quiet, and all of it is quiet, but it’s too comfortable to break. The car rolls over the smooth pavement, cruising further into the night, and it’s too comfortable to break.

II.

At some point, maybe after they cross the New Hampshire border, the radio gets turned on. He never remembers who did it, but he’ll always remember the way Jyn taps her hand against her thigh to the beat, as if it’s enough to keep her awake. He can tell she’s slowing down, her head falls forward in little jerking motions every now and then, and her eyes blink heavily until they stay closed, only to open widely again.  

But he recognizes this song; his hands are tight on the steering wheel as he smiles to himself. He never thought of this before, but--“This is about you,” he says, and reaches forward to turn it up.

 _Green eyes_ , it says, _yeah the spotlight / shines upon you. / And how could / anybody / deny you?_

“Shut up,” she says fondly, and she rests her chin on her hand, covering her mouth. She can’t quite hide they way her lips turn up at the corners, but she keeps her eyes open this time, blinking back the streetlights that make them look almost transparent.

 _I came here with a load, / and it feels so much lighter now I’ve met you_. _/_ _And honey you should know, / that I could never go on without you._

He feels--inexplicably--like laughing. He’s so overtired, and the road stretches so far ahead of them, but this girl makes him so happy. It’s just--he never asked for any of this, he never expected anything like this but he got it anyway, and how lucky is he? How absolutely, completely lucky is he...

_Green eyes / you’re the one that I wanted to find. / And anyone who / tried to deny you / must be out of their mind._

III.

"I wish I met you in the spring," she says.

Cassian looks over at her, but she has her head facing the side window. His lips quirk in amusement. "Why?"

"Because that's when everything comes alive."

He imagines what Jyn would look like in the spring, with the world washed in bright greens and pastel colors. Alive. But he thinks about the muted world in November, the way everything grows duller and emptier, but still beautiful in its softness.

He thinks any time of the year would've been right for them.

"I'll still be here in the spring," he says eventually, unsure of how long it takes to break his train of thought.

Either way, Jyn doesn’t answer.

IV.

Cassian pulls over onto the shoulder of the highway, numb from the buzz of the car in constant motion. His legs are cramping up too. They're nearly in Vermont now, but it's beginning to feel endless. It's like they've entered some hypnotic dream where the highway goes on and on and on.

Next to him Jyn asks, "What's up?"

"Need some air," he answers, taking a deep breath. It's still freezing outside, but the clouds have cleared and he has the chance to stretch his legs, so he's not going to complain.

He hears the other car door open and looks to see Jyn get out as well. She wraps her scarf around her neck before she stretches her arms over her head, the length of them reaches into the sky, and when she looks over at him she smiles. They're both smiling, actually, and maybe this is ridiculous, but Cassian can think of worse ways to spend his night.

"Hey," he says, and he moves to sit on top of the hood of the car, just like they did before.

"Hi," she says back, and joins him. They sit close, and Cassian's shaking from the cold, so he shifts closer to her and pulls her legs over his lap. She rests her head on his shoulder and he can hear her breathe in.  

The night is silent. The highway is silent. There's just the sound of the wind and stray noises coming from the woods on the other side of the guardrail. The mountains loom over them, dark shapes rising from the landscape, and they're outlined by the light of the moon, which is just a tiny little sliver rising above them. The stars ignite into a band across the sky, a dream of light woven together and on display.

"It's beautiful," she says, and her voice is quiet but Cassian can feel the words against him.

He hums in agreement, cupping both of her bare hands with his and bringing them to his mouth. Her skin is dry and cold and he thinks of kissing them, but that wouldn't be right, so instead he blows hot air over their clasped hands

When he looks down at her, she's watching him carefully, and he can't read her expression. Yeah, she watches him, and they stay like that until they can't feel their toes.  

V.

The lines of the highway keep coming. White line after white line, and the quiet of the night never really stops. The mountains get smaller and the moon rises higher and the sky brightens marginally the closer they get to home, but none of it ever really stops. At one point he hears Jyn say, "I feel like we're the only people alive right now."

"Imagine that," he answers, huffing out a dry laugh. Neither of them say anything after that, they're probably both stuck imagining it, anyway. The night never really stops but Cassian thinks of a world in which they're the only people left to roam.

He doesn’t know if it would be lonely or not.

\--

The exit sign for Whitebridge finally shows up close to six in the morning. The sky is lighter now, the sun has yet to rise, but it’s obvious that it’s going to happen soon. The Earth turns to meet it.

They take the exit for Whitebridge, and Cassian remembers the first time he came here with all of his belongings in the back seat and the trunk, and the only thing he really knew was the name of his roommate.

And, well, look at him now.

Jyn’s had her eyes closed for the last half hour, so he hesitates to wake her up. But he has to, so he reaches over and touches her shoulder gently. It takes her a second to stir, and she looks at him blearily before frowning.

“We’re still in the car,” she says, like she can’t believe it.

“Yeah,” he says, and he doesn’t really have the energy to laugh, so he smiles. “Are you going back to Leia’s house?”  

“I can’t,” she answers, and tips her head back against the seat. “Leia has the key.”

“Okay.”

He turns onto the road that sits between their two streets, but Jyn makes a low noise and squeezes her eyes shut. “Crap,” she says. “My aunt’s leaving for her conference this morning and she’ll freak out if she knows I’ve been out all night.”

“Do you want to crash at mine?” he asks without thinking. It’d be easier, anyway, and he’d get home faster.

“Are you sure?” she asks, but he’s already turning onto his street.

“It’s fine,” he says. “We have like, two hours anyway. I can’t promise it’s going to be good.”

“At this point anything’s better than nothing.”

Cassian feels different as they pull up to the apartment. The car doors slamming shut breaks up the quiet morning, and he and Jyn trudge through the slushy snow up to the door. He doesn’t know why it feels different. He thinks about running down these stairs last night--it feels like a lifetime ago now--and he can hear her just a step behind him. Fumbling with the key at his door, he looks over at her. Her tired eyes meet his, but it’s such a moment, it’s such a feeling. They made it home.

Inside they kick off their shoes together, and the whole apartment is silent. Bodhi’s door is shut and Cassian’s books are left on the table where he abandoned them. He glances at his bedroom door and then at Jyn, who’s leaning against the arm of the couch.

“You can take my bed,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No that’s okay, you should sleep in your own bed. I don’t mind,” she says.

“Either way it’s going to suck for one of us,” he argues, “and you have more to do tomorrow, or today, or whatever day it is. I don’t know. You know what I mean.”

“It’s just work,” she says, and he can feel his irritation rise, because the longer they argue about this the longer neither of them are going to sleep.

“Jyn.”

She raises a brow. “Cassian.”

He looks at her, her hair is limp and tucked behind her ears, and her makeup is smudged around her tired eyes. And God--weren’t they just here? Wasn’t it just an early morning somewhere else? From the treehouse to right here, with everything inbetween a wild mixture of emotions and events. It’s too much.

“Just. Come on,” he says, and walks into his bedroom. The lights are off but the sun is starting to peer in through the blinds, and Cassian blinks heavily against them. Jyn’s right behind him and he goes to his bureau, taking out a clean t-shirt with his high school logo on it and a pair of sweatpants. “Here’re some clothes if you want to get changed.”

“Thank you,” Jyn says, and watches him take the pillow from the half of the bed he sleeps on and head back towards the door. She makes a small noise and then: "Wait--Cass. You should stay.”

“What?”

“We can share,” she offers. “It’s not a big deal.”

And right, that’s a bad idea. He knows he shouldn’t, _she_ probably knows that they shouldn't, but he looks at her, and she looks so small, holding his clothes in her arms and standing next to his bed. He looks at her, and whatever part of his brain that’s responsible for making wise decisions shuts down.

“Okay,” he says, and she smiles like she won something so he shakes his head. “I’m setting the alarm for quarter of nine, though.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” she says. “I’ll be back in a second.”

He hums in agreement and takes off his jeans and settles into his normal side of the bed. He’s too exhausted to really think about the gravity of Jyn sleeping next to him--which is probably for the best. As much as it feels like a big deal, like something they shouldn’t do, it isn’t. It can’t be. They’re just friends, and Cassian wouldn’t hesitate to share a bed with Bodhi, so it’s not like it’s weird.  

He’s half asleep when he feels the other side of the bed dip under her weight.

“Goodnight,” he hears her whisper, which is funny because the sun folds into the room and blurs the edges of where his eyes are closed.

He untucks his face from the blanket and says, “Goodnight.”

It might be the fastest he ever falls asleep in his life.

\--

It would be nice to say that Cassian wakes up softly, curled around Jyn, and warm with the morning sun spilling into his room. It would be nice if he could lay there and take it all in, with his blanket tucked around them both and their bodies angled towards each other.

The truth is, his alarm wails and echoes loudly into his bedroom and Cassian’s eyes sting when he blinks them open.

“No,” he hears Jyn groan, but Cassian can barely lift his head, let alone say anything. As if sensing that, she reaches over to push him. “Cass, you have to wake up.”

He makes a noise but that’s about it. He pulls his blanket up higher around his shoulder and smushes his face into the pillow, already feeling sleep begin to drag him under again.

“No,” she says again, but this time she tries to pull his blanket down, half wrestling it out of his tight grip. “Come on Cass, we have to leave in ten minutes.”

“I can skip class, I don’t care,” he mumbles into his pillow.

“Not fair,” she says, “I can’t skip work, and I’ll be late if I walk there.”

And right, that’s a really good argument. He throws off his blanket from his shoulders, exposing his arms to the cool morning air, and rubs the heel of his palm into his right eye. When he blinks them open it’s to the sight of Jyn sitting up next to him. She has her lips pursed, watching him, and her hair looks as though she attempted to smooth it back but it refused to go. Cassian’s more distracted by the way she looks in his high school t-shirt. It’s too big, the short sleeves nearly comes down to her elbows and it sits around her hips. Her legs are bare where they’re tucked underneath her.

“You’re not wearing pants,” his brain supplies, and she half laughs before getting out of bed completely.

“Neither are you,” she says simply, and Cassian takes a second to catch up to the thought and remembers that he’s just wearing boxers. She has a point. He glances away when she starts to wiggle her way into her jeans, but that leads to him closing his eyes again, and the next thing he knows there’s her entire weight on top of him, sending his heart racing.

“Wake up,” she says, and he opens his eyes and tilts his head towards her to give her an unimpressed look, which she returns with a wide smile. “Come on, sleepyhead.”

“How are you so awake?” he asks, and she’s practically sitting on his stomach. Her hands support her by resting them on his shoulders, and Cassian knows that he’s too tired to appreciate this moment.

“I’m not,” she answers. “The mind numbing fear of getting fired and having no money is the only thing that drives me.”

He half laughs. “Okay, okay. Come on, you have to let me get up if you want me to drive you to work.”

“And you still have to go to class,” she reminds him, standing up.

“Mhmm,” he hums, grabbing a clean pair of pants and shrugging them on. “Did you want something to eat? We have like, two minutes.”

She shakes her head, she’s standing at his bureau, looking at the mirror. “I can just grab something at work. God--my bangs.”

“They look fine,” he says, even though they’re a little all over the place. He takes just a second to watch her frown at herself, distracted by the way she looks. When she turns to face him she shrugs her shoulders and they head towards the door.

Cassian’s only half-concerned that Bodhi’s going to see them leave his room together, but he’s nowhere to be found and they slip out the apartment without a word.

\--

The drive to the drugstore takes probably less than three minutes, and Jyn gives him a flat look when he pulls up to the door instead of parking.

“I don’t want to go in,” she says.

He pouts. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to go home and nap, aren’t you?” she asks.

“I’m considering it,” he says with a slowly growing smile.

“You’re the worst,” she says, putting her hand on the handle. “If you do, please spare a moment to feel sorry for me as I stand behind a counter for the next seven hours.” Her smile softens, though, and she looks down at her hands before glancing back up at him. “You’re actually the best, though. I can’t thank you enough for last night.”

“It’s fine,” he insists. “I mean, he’s her twin brother, you can’t make her stay home.”

“You’ve known her for two months, though,” she says.

“And I already owe her way more than last night.”

Jyn laughs. “We all owe Leia.”

It would be funny if it weren’t so true. He smiles. “Okay, go to work, I don’t want you to be late.”

“Fine, fine,” she says. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“It’ll be hard not to,” he insists, and winks at her.

She watches him before she rolls her eyes, but her expression evens out into a small smile. “Yeah,” she says softly, and then, “Bye Cass.”

“Bye Jyn.”

The morning sun sinks into the windshield, making everything a little warmer, and Cassian watches Jyn walk through the automatic doors. He was just joking about missing her, but he already feels the space where she should be sitting next to him, cold and empty.  

\--

He means to go to class.

Really, he does.

It’s just--as he’s driving to the coffee shop, he realizes he’s left all his books at home. And at this point, he figures he should just make himself breakfast instead of buying something, and by the time he’s in the kitchen cooking, Bodhi emerges from his room, soft and sleep rumpled. So he recounts the story of last night (excluding the part where Jyn slept over), and when he’s done eating he just can’t find the motivation to go to class.

It doesn’t help that his bed looks so inviting.

So if he falls asleep for another three hours, can you really blame him?

\--

He owes it to Leia, at least, to go to his accounting class. She texted him earlier to say that she’s going to be staying in Maine until Luke gets out of the hospital, and asked if he could send her all the notes that she’ll miss.

His class isn’t until two, but he stops at the coffee shop before heading to the drugstore. Jyn’s behind the counter, staring vacantly at the floor in front of her, and her hair is pulled back in a headband.

“You look suspiciously well rested,” she says.

“Cute forehead,” he responds.

“Shut up.”

“I brought you coffee?”

“I take it back,” she says, and she reaches for it. “I’m guessing you didn’t go to class?”

“I meant to.”

She squints her eyes at him. “A likely story.”

The fluorescent lights create shadows beneath her eyes, giving away how tired she is, but she seems as bright as usual. If Cassian didn’t know her, he would never guess that she was out all night. If he didn’t know her, he would still be taken by her. It’s who she is

Affection swoops low in his stomach, and Jyn says, “I’m surprised you’re here.”

“Why?”

“You must be so sick of me by now.”

Cassian laughs to himself, because he should, shouldn’t he? But he’s not, no not at all. He leans against the counter and asks, “Is this your way of telling me that you’re sick of _me_?”

She smiles. “No.”

“Good,” he says. “Now I gotta get to class. I might stop by later, I was starting to get separation anxiety.”

“You did not.”

“No, I was asleep.”

“Okay, go,” she says with a tired smile. “Are you really coming back later?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, checking his phone, he only has a minute before he needs to leave. “Probably not, but I’ll text you.”

She nods, and gives him a little wave. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“Later,” he says, and he hesitates to leave. They share a look, something like _can you believe we made it through last night?_. That’s the question Cassian wants to ask, anyway. To be honest, none of it feels real, but he looks at her and he remembers sitting on the hood of his car and it’s already a dear memory.

\--

Cassian idly scratches his neck with his free hand. The other is holding his phone to his ear, and he’s standing in the kitchen. The mid afternoon sun washes through the sheer curtain above the sink, touching his arms and his shirt with velvet light that’s sinking lower in the sky, falling down and dragging up Cassian’s body.

He stands there and takes a long, deep breath. He listens to the echo of the phone ringing until there’s a click and his mom’s voice. “Cassian?”

“Hey Mom,” he says, smiling automatically.

They catch up. Her soothing voice travels the distance between them, bringing him home for just a few minutes. She tells him about Casey’s dance recital and how his father is trying to repair their snowblower before winter really hits--apparently he had to shovel the driveway after the small storm the other night, and she’s worried about his back.

Cassian tells her about Luke’s injury, and how he’ll be released from the hospital in time to go home for Thanksgiving. His mom asks about Leia and Bodhi and K2, and Cassian tells her all about them. He can tell he’s stalling when he starts describing his classes, even retelling a story about Professor Krennic, who took a call during class once when they were watching a movie, and ended up arguing with whoever was on the line for the entirety of it.

Eventually, though, Mom says, “I should probably let you go. Casey’s at a sleepover tonight and your father and I are going out.”

“Have fun,” he says, and he nearly says goodbye before he hesitates and forces himself to say, “Hey Mom?”

“Yeah, hon?”

“Could I bring a friend home for Thanksgiving?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much has happened! Awkward love confessions! Jyn and Bodhi! A faux date! An all-nighter ft. bed sharing! I hope you liked it, I'm excited that we're finally winding down towards the end of things. Again, thank you so much for sticking with me xx.


	8. Through the Corn Rows

“You look nervous,” Cassian says, looking over at Jyn in the passenger seat. Her eyes stay fixed on the road ahead of them, something faraway--something distracted.

And it’s mostly true, her leg bounces up and down in place and she keeps worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, but it’s her energy that’s all off. Ever since she came over Cassian’s apartment this afternoon she’s been a little jumpy--talking in short sentences and he’s had to repeat himself a few times just to get an answer.

“I am nervous,” she says defensively.

“Why? There’s no reason to be,” he says, even though he can feel his own nerves stirring in his stomach. It’s just that he doesn’t know what to expect. Well--he does and he doesn’t. They’re about twenty minutes from his house, it’s the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, and his Mom had confusingly said yes to letting Jyn stay with them for the weekend.

He asked Jyn Sunday night, they were watching tv at her house--some documentary about Machu Picchu that neither of them were really paying attention to--and she’d looked at him for a long moment, her brows furrowed and mouth pressed into a straight line, before saying that she would need to find out if she could take time off of work.

He got a text Monday night asking if the offer was still on the table.

“It’s just...it’s really nice of your family to let me come for the weekend,” she explains. “I don’t want them to hate me.”

“They’re not going to hate you,” he says automatically, but it’s true. When he thinks about it, everything about Jyn is going to make his family fall in love with her.

Which may or may not make him uneasy.

“You never know,” she says.

Cassian breathes out, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the road even though he wants to look at her. He always feels that pull; that desire. The highway is dark ahead of him. They had to leave after Jyn’s shift and after Cassian’s classes ended, so it’s past seven but they’re almost in Wortham. Yeah it’s dark, but it’s something bright, too. It’s something to slip right into: the busy highway and all the headlights that push together, holding the dark back. It’s the night before Thanksgiving, and that will always make Cassian feel warm.

“What are your family traditions?” Jyn asks, and her voice sounds curious, if hesitant. “Like what time do you eat, are you having family over, should I have brought something?”

Cassian laughs to himself, allowing himself to look over at her this time. “We keep it pretty simple. My aunt and uncle live down the street so they’ll come over for dinner, but that’s about it. Our extended family lives in Connecticut, so we usually wait until Christmas to see them.”

“That’s nice,” she says with a smile. “I really wish I made something to bring, though.”

“It’s fine,” he assures.

“It’s rude.”

“Just offer to help my mom cook tomorrow, she’ll love you forever.”

Jyn doesn’t look so sure about that, but she nods anyway, and the highway signs feel more familiar now, reading names of towns he’s grown up around. It’s so funny that he’s lived in the same state his whole life but these two places feel so different. The mountains rise higher beyond the windows, rushing by until they become blurry shapes against the dark sky.

Cassian keeps catching Jyn in his peripheral--shaking her bangs out of her eyes (“I need a haircut soon,” she’d complained earlier, when he told her she wouldn’t be able to see at all soon. They’re starting to split down the middle, and even though she combs them neatly to the sides, they always inevitably fall back into her eyes and get caught in her lashes--it’s cute.)

“Hey,” he says, and a car passes to their right, so when he looks over at her, her profile is made of shadows, outlined by headlights. It fades, though, when she turns to him, and her eyes look cautious but they find his easily.

“What?” she asks, and it’s hard to turn his attention towards the road again. He presses his lips together and takes a breath.

“I’m really glad you’re coming,” he says. “In all seriousness, Jyn, I would’ve missed you otherwise.”

“Can’t bear a whole weekend without me, huh?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had to,” he jokes, even though yeah, it has been. He hasn’t even really thought about it until right now, but it’s true. Sure, they make time for each other during the week, but he hasn’t gone a single weekend since the night they met without spending time with her.

She seems to take a moment to consider that. “You’re right, it would’ve been too long.”

He smiles to himself, grateful that she feels the same, and he risks another glance at her. Her shoulders have settled into something more relaxed, and she rests her elbow on the lip of the car window, her chin sitting in her open palm. He looks back at the road, affection stirring in his stomach, and says, “It’s gonna be a good weekend.”

“You promise?”

He takes one hand off the steering wheel and holds it out to her, pinky extended. He hears her laugh, and it’s just a second later that her pinky wraps around his. They interlock for a beat, a quick _one, two_ , and let go. He glances over at Jyn, who smiles at him and says, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

\--

They pull up to Cassian’s little saltbox house soon after that. He parks against the curb in front of it, smiling at the way the front lights hit the red door. They glow something familiar, something warm and inviting that draws them out of the cold.  

“This is the cutest house I’ve ever seen,” Jyn says, looking over at him with a smile on her face.

He shrugs, eyeing the neatly trimmed hedge and grass that’s still patchy with snow. “It’s home.”

They walk up the driveway and the front walkway, and Cassian kicks his feet against the welcome mat before he finds the right key on his ring and opens the door. He glances back at Jyn, who looks small and nervous; she has her duffle bag in one hand, and the other arm stretches across her stomach, her hand pulling at her waist.  

“You’re good,” he says, stepping aside to let her in. “They’re gonna love you.”

She rolls her eyes at him but enters through the door anyway, and it catches Cassian a little off guard, seeing her in his house like this, with the foyer lights surrounding her and covering her completely with a place where he’s spent his whole life. It makes him hesitate for a moment, but he shakes it off and follows her inside.

“We’re home!” he calls out, dropping his bag. It’s always a weird feeling coming back, because everything is exactly the same as when he left it the last time--the green patterned wallpaper and the little closet to his right that he knows is filled with coats and snow gear, even the way the hallway stretches to his left, leading to the kitchen. These are things that were once so normal to him but now require some sort of adjustment, some sort of way to fit back into place.

They hear excited voices coming from the kitchen and Jyn’s head snaps up from where she was kicking her shoes off next to Cassian’s, a smile falling over her face.

Cassian smiles back, but then there’s a ten year old girl launching herself at him and he half catches her, half trips backwards.

“Casey!” he exclaims, and picks her up even though she’s getting pretty heavy. He hasn’t been home since the beginning of October, which wasn’t _that_ long ago, but he’s still shocked at the little details that change. Casey’s hair is longer, and appears curlier if possible, and he leans back to get a good look at her, at her bright eyes that crinkle with happiness, and his whole heart melts.

“Cassie!” she exclaims, and she laughs as he shakes her around before putting her down.

“Cassie?” Jyn questions, grinning at him--traces of her nerves disappearing. Of course making fun of Cassian would calm Jyn down.

“Don’t call me that,” he says to her, half-serious, and he looks up to see his parents coming down the hall. Mom, with her greying blonde hair that perpetually curls neatly against her chin, smiles broadly and kisses him on the cheek before hugging him.

Dad reaches a hand out once Mom backs out of the way, and Cassian shakes it. “Good to see you, Dad.”

“Likewise,” he says, and looks over at Jyn. “This must be the girl you’ve told us about?”

“Yes,” Cassian says quickly, seeing the small amount of anxiety that’s replaced the smile on her lips. It must be overwhelming, with his parents standing to his side and Casey now in front of him, all of them looking at her. “Mom, Dad, Casey, this is Jyn. Jyn, these are my parents, Sean and Lori, and my little sister Casey.”

“Oh,” Mom says, and goes to hug her. Cassian can feel his own uneasiness return, because it’s one thing to invite Jyn over for Thanksgiving, but another to actually do it. It’s another thing, entirely, to have her in his house and interacting with his family, but Mom says, “Look at you, you’re so pretty! I’m so glad you could join us this weekend.”

And Dad, ever himself, reaches out to shake her hand.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay,” Jyn says, her voice timid and nothing like Cassian’s heard her before. “I can’t say how much it means to me.”

Cassian smiles at her when she looks over at him. He hopes it’s reassuring, but he can’t tell for sure. Casey, on the other hand, is nearly leaning back against his stomach, strangely shy.

“Hey Case,” he says, putting his hands on her shoulders. “You want to say hi to Jyn?”

“Hi,” she says quietly, and leans into his touch.

Jyn practically beams, stepping a little closer. “Hi Casey, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Mom looks between them and says, “I’m sorry that we don’t have a lot of extra space in the house, so we have to set you up with an air mattress in her room. I hope you don’t mind, Jyn.”

Jyn gives a little shake of her head. “No, that’s perfect. I would’ve slept on the couch, to be honest. I can’t thank you enough for having me.”

“Nonsense,” Mom says. “Truthfully I’ve been curious about Cassian’s friends from Whitebridge. We’ve heard a lot about all of you.”

“Oh yeah?” Jyn asks, and raises a brow at him.

“Don’t get too excited,” he says. “It’s mostly about this one girl who always argues with me.”

“That’s not a nice way to talk about Leia.”

He rolls his eyes. “Dad are you making the pies? It smells good in here.”

“Sure am,” he says. “But let me grab your bags, you guys must be exhausted from traveling all the way up here.”

“It’s only an hour and a half drive,” Cassian says, glancing at Jyn, because they both know that they’ve driven a lot longer in a single night. Dad’s already grabbing the bags and heading towards the stairs, and Cassian breathes out a laugh. “Okay.”

“I have leftovers from dinner in the fridge,” Mom says. “I wasn’t sure what time you’d be home but I figured you’d want something to eat.”

“I could eat,” he says, and looks to Jyn, who nods. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Yeah, it’s right in the kitchen. Casey, you want to help me blow up the air mattress?”

And Casey looks at Jyn before she follows Mom, watching her in that way that only kids can really get away with--wide eyed and obvious. Not that Cassian doesn’t do the same exact thing...It’s hard not to, with Jyn.

They go into the kitchen, which smells a lot like cinnamon, and it’s a mess of bowls and measuring cups. The hand mixer is on the counter but it’s missing the beaters, there’s the old cookbook, beaten and stained and full of random papers sitting next to it, and the oven light has been left on, revealing two pies sitting next to each other in the hazy golden heat.

Jyn takes a seat at the table while Cassian opens the refrigerator. He blinks his eyes against the cold light, looking at everything packed in. It’s mostly all the food they’ll need to cook tomorrow, but his eyes land on two plates covered in saran wrap. It looks like chicken, rice, and broccoli in heaping portions, divided neatly onto each plate.

Cassian’s chest feels warm just at the thought of having his mother’s food again. Bodhi is a great cook, and Cassian certainly _tries_ , but nothing can really compare to Mom.

He grabs two forks and sits next to Jyn at the round wooden table. She takes the plate and fork from him but just looks at the dinner for a long second.

“You okay?” he asks.

“This is really nice,” she says quietly, and pulls the saran wrap off carefully. Cassian has no idea, really, how to react to that, so he nods and unwraps his own dinner.

They eat quietly at first. Cassian can tell that she’s obviously a little overwhelmed, so he lets her take a second to herself and focuses on his own plate. It’s when she says, “This is delicious,” that they open up again. Cassian tells her a few memories from this kitchen, like how they kept the good snacks in a cabinet up top, and that when he was younger--and much shorter--he used to use pull out the drawers and climb up them in order to reach.

“Remind me not to get in the way of you and your snacks,” she says, her eyes bright. “I kind of love it.”

“Hey,” he says, shrugging to himself. “I had to find a way to made it happen.”  

She looks over at the drawers and laughs a little before she asks, “So this is the only house you’ve ever lived in?”

“Yeah, this is where I’ve lived my whole life--until August.”

And something about that makes her half frown, almost pursing her lips to the side, but that’s when Dad comes into the kitchen and pulls on his blue and white checkered oven mitts. “Hey kids,” he says, and goes to the oven, cracking it open before opening it all the way. All the heat rushes out of it, rushes into the kitchen, and Dad pulls the two pies out of the oven and sets them down on the counter.

And if it smelled good before, the whole room is filled now with the sweet cinnamon scent of pumpkin pie. Cassian smiles to himself, and his eye catches Casey coming into the kitchen from the other side of the counter, hesitating and keeping her distance.

“Come here, cutie,” he says.

She does, she comes closer, and she’s wearing a matching set of PJs, blue with pink polka dots. She stands next to him at the kitchen table, but her eyes keep watching Jyn before she turns to him and asks, “Can I show Jyn my room?”

“Ask Jyn if she wants to,” he says.

“I would love to see your room,” Jyn answers before Casey can ask, and Casey grins and runs out of the kitchen before anyone can say anything else. Jyn and Cassian are helpless to follow.  

Mom gives them a look as they pass her on the stairs--something cautious and something Cassian doesn’t know how to read. They reach the top of the stairs where the hall is short, and the door to Casey’s room is on the far side to the left, with Cassian’s door directly across from it. They face each other, with their parent’s door at the end of the hall and one more in between for the bathroom. It’s not a big house, but there’s enough space for all of them without feeling cramped.

Casey’s walls are the same soft blue as her pajamas, and frankly it’s a mess even though he knows Mom had her clean before they came over. The bed is made but there are stuffed animals all over it. There are a lot of toys that he doesn’t even recognize--most of it is plastic and pink--spread across the floor. There’s a whole bookcase on one wall, filled to the brim with colorful bindings of chapter books and thin paperbacks and the Harry Potter books that were once his.

On the floor is an air mattress with a white sheet and pillow on it. There’s a few folded blankets at the end, and Cassian winces at the sight of the cheetah print fleece that sits on top of the blanket covered in Batman symbols and the BU blanket that they’ve had forever. Next to the air mattress is Jyn’s duffle, and Jyn takes a step in the room, her eyes moving all over everything.

“Do you like to read?” Jyn asks, obviously eyeing the bookcase.

“Sometimes,” Casey says, which doesn’t really make sense considering how many books she has, and the fact that Cassian knows for a fact how much she loves to read. 

“She’s already smarter than me,” he jokes, brushing his hand through her hair before taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

“Yeah,” she says. “That’s why I’m gonna go to college.”

He laughs. “Oh really? When’s that going to happen?”

“Next year,” she says, and her brow dips down into something determined. “I’m gonna go to Whitebridge and move in with you and Bodhi and we’re gonna build a blanket fort in the living room.”

“That sounds like fun,” Jyn says, completely amused. “Can I come?”

“Yeah! We can make s’mores in the kitchen. Sometimes Mom lets us cook marshmallows on the stovetop.”

“Yeah, that’ll be blast,” he says. He doesn’t quite have the heart to tell her that he and Bodhi have an electric stovetop, so they technically couldn’t roast marshmallows at all. It’s funny to talk about, but at the same time it makes him a little uneasy, like he’s missing out on his sister’s life. He swallows down the guilt and smiles at Casey, who’s picking up her stuffed animals off of the floor and placing them in neat rows on the bed.

“And we can tell each other secrets!” she says, and Cassian raises a brow at Jyn, because right. They’ve already done that.

“What kind of secrets do you have, Case?”

Casey smiles at him. “You have to wait until I’m in college.”

Jyn’s mouth falls open with a laugh. “I love it.”

“Jyn!” Casey exclaims, about ten times brighter than she was downstairs. “Can I show you my stuffed animals?”

“Yeah of course.”

Casey proceeds to go through her stuffed animals, from a large zebra with short fuzzy hair, to the worn polar bear that’s missing quite a bit of fur. Its ear is half hanging off and it sits next to a pristine black and white cat. They all have either funny or serious names and Cassian knows most of them already, but it’s fun to watch Jyn react to each one and shake their hands (or paws). She even has to hold a few as Casey goes through them, looking a little crowded under the sea of stuffed animals piled up in her arms. Cassian tries not to laugh at her, but he fails. He can’t help it, she’s so cute like this.

She sits on the air mattress and Cassian sits at the end of Casey’s bed, and Casey’s up and about going through things and showing it to Jyn. Eventually, though, Mom comes in and looks at the scene with raised brows.

“Casey, hon, let Cass and Jyn go now.”

“But Jyn hasn’t met Annabelle yet.”

“She can meet her tomorrow, if she wants,” Mom says, putting a little emphasis on it, like she doesn’t want Casey to bother them. “Come on, it’s time to get washed up and go to bed.”

Casey looks upset but doesn’t say anything. Jyn deposits the stuffed animals she was holding onto the bed and her and Cassian both say goodnight before leaving the room.

“Is this your room?” Jyn asks, nodding at the door across the hallway.

“Yes,” Cassian says warily, knowing that he’s going to have to show it to Jyn, who already looks endlessly curious.

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s see it.”

He gives her a look but opens the door anyway. It’s just as he left it in October, with his bed tucked into the far corner, covered by his navy blue duvet and pillow. The walls still have posters on them from high school and he has a few pictures hanging up here and there. His room is just a lot of pieces that have accumulated over the years and fit together into something that resembles--or represents--him. He looks at Jyn, who has a small smile on her face as she enters and walks around like she’s completely and utterly fascinated.

“Oh my god,” she says, lifting a framed picture of him, Jonah, and Jess at their joint graduation party. “Look how long your hair was!”

She scrutinizes him like she’s trying to picture it and Cassian shifts under her gaze. In the picture his hair touches his shoulders and slightly curls at the ends. “I cut it soon after that.”

“I like it,” she says. “Why’d you cut it?”

“It was just always in the way, and I don’t think ponytails suit me.”

She hums to herself, but she raises a brow at him. He takes the picture from her and says, “They were my two best friends growing up.”

“Were?”

“ _Are_ , I guess. Jessie went into the Navy and Jonah’s out in Colorado for school. It’s just been a while since I’ve seen them.”

“You don’t talk anymore?”

“Not so much,” he says, and frowns, feeling a heaviness settle inside him. He looks at the picture again, at his long hair and broad smile, and feels an echo of what he did that day. “It just isn’t as easy as it used to be.”

He hears Jyn sigh and looks up to see her raise one corner of her lips in sympathy. “I lost a lot of friends when they moved away to college. You think you’ll keep in touch, but...”

“Yeah,” Cassian agrees, and gives her a smile.

“But really, KISS?” she asks.

He laughs and looks at the poster on the wall. It’s all black except for the logo and their four painted faces. “I was going through a phase!”

“But you kept the poster?”

“Do I question all of your decisions, Jyn?”

“Most of them, actually.”

“Yeah, well,” he says. “I thought you’d be more interested in the Lego U-Wing, anyway.”

“I haven’t gotten to that yet, don’t rush me,” she says, and goes over to his bureau, where the Lego model is perfectly preserved from when he built it when he was thirteen. She smiles to herself. “This room tells a much better story than yours back in Whitebridge.”

“Oh yeah? What does my Whitebridge room say?”

She hums. “Boring, adult, grown-up Cass studies accounting and doesn’t decorate his room. Believe it or not, there isn’t a single poster on the walls in Whitebridge.”

“No?” he questions, more amused than offended. “He sounds like a real jerk.”

“Nah, he’s okay,” Jyn says, grinning at him. “But I must admit that I’m pretty interested in Wortham Cassian. He seems like a good guy--a nerd, but that’s part of the charm.”

He laughs, coming closer and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “You’re in luck, you’re about to get a full dose of him this weekend.”

She puts her hands on his back, squeezing him once before stepping away and moving to where he has framed pictures of him and his family, his friends, and places he’s been. “Your family seems really sweet.”

“Yeah, I like them,” he says, and grins to himself.

They both look up at the sound of a knock on Cassian’s door. His mom stands there, and she has a small smile on her face that lets him know she probably caught a bit of their conversation.

“Hey, what’s up?” he says.

“Your father and I are saying goodnight,” she says. “I just wanted to update you on Thanksgiving plans.”

“Sure.”

“Bob and Mallory are coming over for one o’clock tomorrow, so I want to start cooking by ten. Cassian, that means you have to get up early to prep.”

“I’m more than willing to help cook, Lori,” Jyn says, looking up at Mom from where she’s seated on the bed.

“Oh please, you’re our guest,” she insists. She gestures at Cassian, “This one, on the other hand, isn’t getting out of it.”

He frowns. “That’s not fair, Jyn’s actually really good at cooking.”

“Hey, thanks.”

“Hey, you’re welcome.”

“Cass,” his mother cuts in. “I’m being serious. It won’t be the same if you don’t.”

He bites back his initial response, because he knows that his mom is attached to her traditions and this is their first Thanksgiving since he moved out. She’s already mentioned several times on the phone that she needs to make sure everything is perfect and, well, he does want to make it easier on her. “Okay,” he relents, and catches the quick smile she sends him.

“And Jyn,” she says. “Please let me know if Casey gets to be a bit too much for you. She’s been a little quiet tonight, but that won’t last for long.”

“It’s true,” Cassian agrees.

Jyn laughs a little and scrunches her nose. “It’s fine. I’m never around kids so it’s interesting.”

“Just let me know,” Mom says. “I promise I won’t be offended.”

“Okay,” Jyn says, even though Cassian knows she would never complain.

“Is she okay with sharing her room?” he asks.

“Goodness, you wouldn’t believe how excited she was when she found out Jyn was coming over. I don’t know if she’s told you, but she made a list of all the things she wants to do with you this weekend.”

“Really?” Cassian questions. Jyn, on the other hand, beams.

“That’s adorable,” she says.

Mom pauses, presses her lips together, and looks at the two of them. “I’m really glad you’re here, Jyn.”

Her lips tilt up at the corners, and she has that same look she did earlier when they were eating dinner: like she can’t believe any of it. She blinks up at Mom and says, “Me too.”

Mom smiles back. “Goodnight kids, don’t stay up too late, we’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“We won’t,” Cassian promises.

But they do. It starts when Cassian asks if Jyn needs anything and they go downstairs for some water. They sit at the kitchen table and talk for a while, hands fiddling with blue glasses that can’t catch the light, but they move to the living room shortly after that. The wood stove is still burning, but the flame sits low behind the glass. The lights are low too, so the glow of it fills the whole room and paints up the sides of Jyn’s face.

“Tell me your favorite Thanksgiving memory,” Jyn says, settled on the couch closest to the fireplace. Cassian sits next to her, and they’re not touching but they share a blanket, one that’s been in his house as long as he can remember. It’s pale green, made out of a soft, but still kind of scratchy yarn that’s been crocheted into neat little rows.

He takes a second to think about the question, staring half-mindedly at the fire before turning his attention to her. She watches him openly, something gentle and warm.

“It was third grade,” he starts. “We had a Thanksgiving play at my school and I got to be William Bradford. Mom just found out that she was pregnant with Casey and my grandparents came to see me perform. Everything felt good, you know?”

“That’s sweet,” she says, letting the quiet sit between them before asking, “Did you wear one of those big pilgrim hats with a buckle on it?”

“Of course, you can’t be a pilgrim without the hat. I remember, I was so excited because we just went to Plymouth the summer before that and got to see the Mayflower and everything. I thought I was the best fit to be the lead of the play, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously,” she says, and she laughs. “I’m gonna have to ask your mom for pictures, I keep trying to imagine it but I can’t.”

“Ugh, don’t,” he says, tilting his head back against the couch. “Seriously, that is a trap you don’t want to get caught in. You’ll end up looking at pictures of me for hours.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

She's looking down at where her hands play with the material of the blanket, but she raises a brow at him and smirks. It's little moments like these that make him want to question how she feels about him. As if these little flirtations could mean something even though she said they didn't.

Or, seen another way: she never denied feeling anything for him. It's been over a week since it happened, but Cassian still can't really go there, can he? He can't get trapped in those questions and be left wondering where they stand.

She told him. He has to accept that.

“What about you?” he asks, trying to refocus on her. “What’s your favorite Thanksgiving memory?”

She hums to herself, tilting her head in thought. “One year, a bunch of families from town got together at the Skywalker’s house. Everyone brought their favorite Thanksgiving food, and it was this big mish mash of people and their traditions and it was so much fun.”

She says this with a warm smile on her face, and he knows in her head she’s back there right now. He takes a deep breath. “How old were you?”

“Thirteen? I think?” she says. “Maybe fourteen. Either way, it was a while ago.”

He wants to ask about her family, about Saw Gerrera, but he doesn’t know how she’d take that. Technically, he's not even supposed to know who Saw is, and Cassian knows that Jyn wouldn't be happy Bodhi told him. Judging by what Bodhi'd said, Cassian doesn't want to drive them further apart if they're both at a place where they're willing to repair their relationship, or at least allow it to become something new.

“What do you usually do for Thanksgiving?” he asks instead, somehow unwilling to not try and at least see if she’ll tell him anything--whether it’s about Saw or her parents or any piece of her past.

She laughs to herself: something short and unhappy. “Last year was my first Thanksgiving with my aunt, and neither of us made any plans or wanted to do anything, so we literally didn’t celebrate it at all.”

“Were you okay with that?” he asks.

“Yes and no,” she says, not really looking at him. Her gaze lands somewhere near his shoulder, not distant but not here, either. “I mean, I really, really wasn’t up for anything, so I was more than happy not to. But at the same time, Thanksgiving is a good holiday, you know? A large part of me felt very alone,” she says, hesitating, “and unhappy.”

Her eyes flick up to meet his, almost like she’s daring him to feel sorry for her or call her weak. He shakes his head to himself, feeling the uneasiness in his stomach shift into something softer, something that wants to hold her and tell her it’s okay. “Hey,” he says, and he reaches over to take her hand where it’s resting on top of the blanket, threading their fingers together. “I promise, by the time this weekend is over you’re going to be so sick of my family that you’ll wish you were alone again.”

Her laugh is sharp and she squeezes his hand once. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Especially of me,” he continues. “I’m telling you, Sunday morning you’ll be grateful to go back to Whitebridge.”

“If I wasn’t sick of you after our endless road trip last week, I think I’ll be okay.”

“That’s a good point,” he says, “but we’ll see.”

“Yeah,” she says softly, “we’ll see.”

They keep talking until they realize it’s nearly midnight and that both of them are absolutely exhausted. Cassian takes their empty glasses into the kitchen and leaves them in the sink, guiding Jyn toward the stairs. Once they reach the top they stand opposite of each other in the hall, standing in front of their respective doors. Cassian reaches one arm forward, tugging her into a hug.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, and when he pulls back, he tries to make out her expression, but her face is full of too many shadows. The hallway is dark except for the night light shaped like an angel plugged into the outlet next to the bathroom door, but the light doesn’t reach them all the way. It isn’t enough to really see.

“Me too,” she says, and takes a step back. Cassian watches her--what he can make out of her, anyway--and takes his own step back, turning and opening his door. He takes one last look behind him, catching Jyn still watching him, and enters the dark room.

\--

And right, being back in his old room is such a strange feeling.

It's like this: he hasn't been away from here long enough to really justify the way that Whitebridge has started to feel like home, but that's what's happened anyway. He thinks about his bedroom in his apartment, the way that the light sits in the blinds--blue to fall asleep to, gold to wake him up--and the way that his bed has dipped under his weight and the weight of Bodhi and Jyn. These people have become such a part of his life so quickly, he doesn't think he'll ever really understand it.

As is it, he steps into his past, and it's familiar in a way that he thinks might be a little ridiculous. The curtains are left open, so the streetlights twist their way into the room, and he knows those streetlights. He knows his neighbor's house, big and a strange shade of blue. He's woken up to thunderstorms rolling across this sky, dragging lightning over this same sight. He's fallen asleep to silent snow drifting effortlessly across this view. It's his entire life surrounding him in a way that feels distant from who he is right now.

Yeah, it's strange. He pulls the curtains across the window, shutting out the light, and pulls off his shirt and pants before dropping onto his bed. As his eyes adjust to the dark, he can only make out the shine of his posters and glass picture frames, and he thinks about Jyn across the hall.

She's here, in this place where he's spent his entire life, and that should be strange too, shouldn't it? Here's this girl that he's known for a month, who's told him she isn't interested in him, and yet here she is. Here she's going to experience the most personal, intimate moments between him and his family, and she's going to understand him in a way that he's suspecting he'll never fully understand her.

Maybe it's a big step, maybe Cassian's just reading into it too much. He rolls over onto his side, taking a deep breath and trying to quiet the thoughts that rush in, and instead lets his eyes draw over the familiar lines of his old room.

Which yeah, it might not feel like the same, but Cassian can't help it, he still loves it all.

\--

Cassian's only thrown off for a second when he wakes up, trying to figure out where he is. He's more distracted by how bright it is in his room. The light streams in through the cracks in his curtains, spilling out across the walls and the floor and over the end of his bed.

Right, he was supposed to get up early to help Mom with the cooking.

It’s past nine, so he gets up and throws on some clothes. He feels remarkably well rested as he stumbles through his morning routine, brushing his teeth and blinking at himself in the mirror, even if he doesn’t quite look it. His beard is getting longer but he decides that he likes it; his hair is getting longer too, but he pushes it back and hurries downstairs, where everyone’s already in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he says, noting his mother standing at the stove, which already has the turkey inside. His dad is at the counter, cutting a loaf of bread into chunks, and sitting at the table next to each other are Jyn and Casey.

“It’s about time,” Mom says. “Eat something quick, Cass, I need you to prep the sweet potato pie as soon as you can.”

“Good morning to you too,” he mutters, pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

“Cassian Andor: sweet potato whisperer?” Jyn questions when he sits down with them. Beside her, Casey giggles like it’s the funniest thing in the world, which it _isn’t_ , but she just likes to make fun of Cassian so honestly, whatever.

“Master peeler, more like,” he says. He scoops a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and asks, “How long have you been awake?”

“6:30,” Jyn says with a wide smile that may or may not be more of a grimace.

“Yikes,” he says quietly. “Did you sleep well?”

“Jyn follows me on Instagram,” Casey brags, not even looking at them. She has a few Shopkins on the table and she keeps moving them around and fiddling with them. Cassian’s not really sure what the point is, but she seems to be having fun.

“Since when do you have Instagram?” he asks.

“Mom said I could.”

“Yeah, but when?”

“A couple weeks ago.”

“And you didn’t think to follow your kind, sweet, and caring older brother, who you love more than anyone in the world?”

“Why would she?” Jyn says. “She’s following me, she doesn’t need anyone else.”

“Rude,” Cassian says.

“True.”

“I am following you,” Casey clarifies. “You didn’t follow me back.”

Jyn snorts.

“Shoot,” he says to himself, pulling out his phone. He opens Instagram and scrolls through his followers. Sure enough, there’s a _Casey_ with a pink flower and heart next to it. “Aw, Case,” he says. “I’m sorry, I must have missed the notification.”

He hits the follow button and looks up at his sister, who shrugs. “It’s okay, you don’t post anything, anyway.”

And he’d deny it, but it’s true. His last post must be from the summer, something quick he posted with a couple of friends from the fourth of July.

“Are you even following me?” Jyn asks. Cassian frowns, because he knows that they added each other on Snapchat and Facebook, but Instagram may have eluded them.

“I’m not very good at this, okay?”

“Obviously.”

“Cassian,” his mother says, coming back into the kitchen. “Hon, I know you’ve got a friend here and you haven’t seen Casey in a while, but you can talk and peel, right?”

“Can someone please be nice to me?” he asks, but he gets up anyway to put his empty bowl in the sink.

A moment later Jyn comes up to him. “You know, it’s been a while since I’ve called you a baby.”

“For good reason,” he mutters to himself.

“Come on, let me help with the potatoes.”

“We only have one peeler,” he says.

“So I’ll use a knife.”

“You really want to help?” he asks, raising a brow.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll use the knife,” he says, and hands her the peeler.

Jyn rolls her eyes. “My hero.”

He passes her a sweet potato and grabs a knife out of their seemingly ancient knife block, as well as another cutting board. It turns out that using a knife is a little awkward, but he manages to slice the edges off and dice the sweet potatoes into cubes. He keeps glancing over at Jyn, who peels each one with ease, pulling the skin back in one fluid motion after another.

“Look at you, expert peeler,” he says, and bumps her hip with his.

“Expert peeler?” she questions. “Is that better or worse than master peeler?”

“It’s not a competition, Jyn,” he says, grinning to himself.

She makes a small noise. “That’s something people say when they know they’ll lose.”

“Are you calling me a loser?”

“No,” she says quickly, and winks at him. “I’m just saying, you’ll never be a winner if you don’t play the game.”

He snorts. “Is that something they taught you in soccer?”

“Probably,” she says. “Or maybe it’s just something I learned on the streets.”

This time he laughs openly, and he nearly slices his finger open where he’s bearing down on the sweet potato. “Right, the streets of Whitebridge. I hear it’s a rough area.”

“Trust me, it’s not somewhere you want to be out late at night.”

“Oh yeah? What’s out there?”

“Well, I heard that there are these two hoodlums who broke into a greenhouse.”

He laughs. “Now why would anyone go and do a thing like that?”

“Get this,” she says, low and conspiratorially. “They wanted to take _pictures_.”

“Of the plants?”

She nods.

“That _does_ sound dangerous.”

“Yeah,” she says, and she sighs. “You have to be careful out there, you never know when they’ll be around.”

“Hey,” he says, pausing where he was about to dice the last sweet potato. “Did you get those pictures developed?”

“Yes I did,” she says.

“And?”

“They’re pretty good, if you ask me.”

She finally looks up at him, and Cassian smiles at her, asking, “Can you show me when we get home?”

“Of course,” she answers. “It’s funny, because they document the night we first met, but we don’t look like strangers in them.”

Something about the way that she says that makes Cassian’s chest feel too warm. He turns his attention back to the cutting board, to the way that the sweet potatoes look spread out against the cutting board: bright orange against white, and he smiles to himself.

Jyn seems to be content to let the conversation drop, and they cut up the last of the sweet potatoes in companionable silence.

\--

Once the sweet potato pie is prepped and ready to bake, Cassian sets about making himself a cup of tea. Mom, Dad, and Jyn are already drinking their coffee in the other room, so Cassian has a moment to himself in the kitchen, putting on the kettle and working his way around all the food ready to be cooked.

And there's something so nice about all of it, something complete about the way he can hear voices trailing in from the other room as his bare feet press against the cold tile of the kitchen floor. There's something about the way the morning sun rises to its highest point in the sky but still sits low enough to stream in through the slide door on the other side of the table. Yeah, there's something about all these pieces that fit together into something Cassian can't describe, something he can only feel as he takes his tea into the other room and sits next to Jyn on the couch, where the heat of the woodstove pours over the four of them and makes a low, rolling sound that sits under their voices.

You know how it is--there's something about all of that.

"Casserole is prepared," he says, adjusting the pillow on his other side.

Mom shoots him a grateful smile and says, "Thank you. Now we just need to put together the green beans and make the mashed potatoes. Everything else is ready to be baked. Actually, Sean, did Mallory confirm that she's making her cranberry sauce?"

"Yes, I spoke to them earlier this morning," Dad says. "They have a something that they have to go to tonight, so they won't be able to stay for the movie."

"That's too bad," Mom says, and presses her lips together before looking at Jyn. "We watch a Christmas movie together everything Thanksgiving, sort of like a tradition to start the holiday season."

"I like that," Jyn says smiling. "Which movie do you watch?"

"Well that's the thing, it's a different one every year and we rotate through the family on who gets to decide. It's my turn this year, but I think it'd be nice if you were the one to pick."

"Me?" Jyn asks, and glances at Cassian like she can't believe someone would ever include her in a family tradition. He smiles at her and nods, knowing that it isn't a huge deal to the family but might be more meaningful to Jyn.

"Of course," Mom says, smiling widely at her. "You're our guest, you're really making this something special, and I would love it if you'd be apart of our traditions."

"I would too," Jyn says, laughing a little. Her hands surround a blue mug, those pale fingers that Cassian loves to hold, and she looks between all of them with the sweetest smile. "Thank you."

Cassian looks at his Dad, who's often relatively reserved with his emotions, but even he is openly grinning at Jyn. It's just funny how Cassian had hoped that his parents would love her, but it's happened faster than he expected. Isn't that how it is, though? Cassian had just one night with her before he knew that he wanted her in his life.

He even went to the drugstore that next day, just hoping for another minute with her. He didn't know that he'd end up here.

He didn’t know how far they’d come.

\--

"You have to help me," Jyn says, sitting next to the case of DVDs. They're downstairs in their tv room, which isn't very large but it has a big couch and two reclining chairs, so it fits a fair amount of people. It's more of a recent thing, actually. The tv used to be upstairs but a few years ago they finished the basement and moved it down here, where it fits cozily against the far wall.

Right now the tv is on, and it was playing the Macy’s Day Parade but it’s been switched over to the dog show per Casey’s request. She sits on the couch, only half paying attention to the dogs parading across the screen because she has Mom’s iPad in her lap.

Cassian goes over to Jyn, sitting down on the green and brown patterned rug next to her, and asks, "Help with what?"

"Picking a movie," she says. "What do you guys like?"

"All of them," he says, chuckling to himself. "That's why we own them, Jyn."

"Okay, genius. Tell me which ones _you_ like, then. Which ones could you watch a hundred times and never get bored?"

He purses his lips, inspecting the cabinet. "You know, some people would kill for this opportunity, and here you are giving it to me."

"Not completely," she defends. "I'm just...narrowing down my choice."

"Right," he says, and he hums, pulling out a few movies that he hasn't seen in a while along with some of his favorites.

She raises a brow at him but considers them carefully, taking a minute to pick a few cases up and flip them over to look at the back before putting them down again. Cassian shakes his head but he doesn't say anything, letting her make her decision her way.

"Home Alone," she says, picking it up and proudly holding it up for him to see.

"Excellent choice," he says, and then: “Hey--so are holidays going to be our thing as well? You know, like our Thursdays at the drugstore. So far we have Halloween and Thanksgiving.”

“It wasn’t technically Halloween though, remember? It was my birthday.”

“How could I forget? A whole month older than me, and you remind me every chance you get.”

“So we’ll have birthdays and Thanksgiving.”

“You think you’ll see me on my birthday?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asks, and her grin is challenging but her eyes crinkle happily.

Cassian’s definitely said those exact words to her before. He doesn’t remember when, but it’s so familiar and her expression tells him she’s said it purposefully, so he thinks of a Jyn response, something flat and honest because he really wants to know the answer. “Yeah, I would.”

She laughs. “Too bad. You’ll have to wait until Monday to find out.”

“Whatever,” he says, rolling his eyes.  

“Jyn,” Casey interrupts. “If you were a Disney princess, which one would you be?”

“Mulan,” she answers immediately, raising a brow at Cassian, like she’s daring him to question that.

He laughs, holding his hands up. “I’m not saying anything.”

\--

The first thing that hits him is the smell.

They come upstairs and that's all he can sense. It smells so good that he can't even differentiate what's what, it all combines into something that says _home_. The extra leaf is put into the dining table, so it's longer than it usually is, and the white tablecloth sits under carefully laid out bowls and utensils and plates. There's the fine china that they use maybe twice a year, and tall glasses are filled with wine and apple cider.

Cassian smiles as he takes it all in, glancing over at Jyn who looks at the scene like she can't believe it. Mom's guiding everyone where to sit while Dad fills up the gravy boat in the kitchen. Cassian and Jyn are next to each other on one side, with Uncle Bob, Aunt Mallory, and Casey on the other. Mom and Dad sit at opposite ends, and Cassian’s heart feels full as he looks between everyone seated at the table.

Because there’s something about Thanksgiving that always makes him super aware of time. It's something so consistent, and he can never quite believe that a whole year has passed and here he is again. Here is the white tablecloth and the homemade cranberry sauce that Mallory brought and here is where they come together and celebrate as a family.

He looks around and he wants to take this memory and tuck it away, keep it safe, and remember it forever.

Because here is also where Jyn is. Here is where she smiles at him and passes him the green bean casserole when he asks her for it. Here is a good place to be.

“So Jyn,” Uncle Bob starts once they’re all settled in and have their plates full. “What do you study at school?”

“Oh,” she says, and Cassian’s head snaps up from where he was spooning the sweet potato casserole onto his plate. “Uh, I don’t go to school.”

“You don’t?” Bob questions, something incredulous.

“Uncle--” Cassian starts, but Jyn cuts in.

“It’s fine,” she says to Cassian, her voice light and easy even though he can see the way her smile tightens as it does when she’s anxious. “No, school was never in the cards for me. There’s been some family stuff, and I don’t know what I’d do with a degree anyway, so I guess I’m just waiting on it. I haven’t ruled it out completely, but for now I’m working.”

“What do you do?” Bob asks, and Cassian bites back a response. This is something he should’ve been prepared for. Bob is so money conscious and realistic, always ready to educate people about the world and how to be successful.

“I work at our local drugstore,” she says evenly.

“Best salesperson I’ve ever met,” Cassian tries to joke.

It works though, because Jyn laughs--just one sharp sound. “I’m good at selling Cassian things he doesn’t want to buy, although I’m sure you’re just being nice.”

“Never,” he says, and winks at her. He catches Mom watching him with an expression he can’t seem to read. He turns his attention away from her and back to Bob, who looks ready to say something but thankfully Dad clears his throat.

“Hey, it’s Thanksgiving, why don’t we talk about some of the things we’re grateful for?” he says, looking around the table. “Casey, why don’t you start?”

Casey puts down her fork and wipes her mouth with the cloth napkin, pursing her lips and squinting her eyes shut like she’s thinking about it really hard. It takes a long moment for her to smile and say, “I’m thankful that I get to be the lead in my school’s Christmas play.”

That earns her some chuckles from around the table. They move to her left, and Bob and Mallory both mention their house and their pets, as they do every year.

“I’m thankful for the health of my children,” Mom says. “That they’re both here and that we can have Jyn here with us as well.”

Jyn smiles unsteadily, seemingly emotional about it. “Thank you,” she says. “I’m grateful to be here and that I got to meet all of you. Today means a lot to me.”

“We’re glad you’re here,” Dad says. “As for me, I’m grateful for our jobs, that we can provide for this family and take care of one another.”

They all look to Cassian, who’s the last to go. He hums to himself. “I’m grateful for all of you, obviously. But this year I’m especially grateful for the friends I’ve made in Whitebridge. I had no idea what I was in for, but it couldn’t have turned out any better.”

Jyn’s taking a sip of her cider, but she puts the glass down and smiles at him, reaching over and squeezing his wrist under the table. He returns the smile and then he returns to his plate, savoring each taste as he works his way around it.

Yeah, here is a good place to be.

\--

After a majority of the food is put away and the dishes are set aside to be cleaned, everyone heads downstairs to watch the football game. Cassian and Jyn opt out of watching it, instead going upstairs to Cassian’s bedroom, where the afternoon light sits low and makes everything a muted shade of gray.

Cassian groans as he closes the door behind him, sprawling out across the bed and resting his arms across his stomach. “I’m so full.”

Jyn smiles sympathetically at him. “It was worth it, though.”

“You really liked it?” he asks, because he knows Jyn would never say anything otherwise in front of everyone, but she’ll be honest with him.

“Hmm, let’s see,” she says, sitting at the end of his bed, right next to his legs. “A complete, home cooked meal with people who genuinely want me to be there? Well, except maybe Uncle Bob. But yeah, come on, I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

He nudges her with her leg. “He likes you plenty, he’s just too practical. You should’ve been around when I was applying to college. He’s obsessed with the idea that you have to make $100,000 a year in order to be happy in life. Like--that’s the magical number that’s going to take care of you and allow you to start a family. I mean, he’s probably right, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“What, your big accounting dreams won’t earn you that much?”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I try. Honestly, Cass, the food was amazing and I love your family. I’m just...blown away by how welcoming your parents are and how wonderful your home is.”

“But the sweet potato casserole was your favorite part, right?”

She snorts. “I wouldn’t dream of liking anything more.”

He hesitates to say anything else. He’s full and he’s comfortable, and his eyes feel heavy as he settles in a little more, nudging his face against the pillow until he finds the perfect spot. Jyn doesn’t say anything either, but she watches him before she smirks and leans forward, kicking her legs up onto the bed and laying down next to him.  

They share his pillow, and this close she’s a little blurry and hard to focus on, but his arms automatically reach around to hold her. This might be his favorite thing, just being with her. Just when they can be quiet and close, with physical touch grounding him in a way that he didn’t know he could be grounded. He feels calmer and steadier; he feels like he could stay like this forever.

“I’m tired,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, and he can feel the ghost of her breath against his chin.

“Mm,” he hums. “A quick nap won’t hurt, they’re watching football anyway.”

He says this as his eyes fall closed, but then he feels Jyn’s hand rest on his side, right against his ribs. He opens them again to see her with her eyes closed, and he shifts his body a fraction closer before smiling to himself and snuggling further into the pillow.

He’s just about to fall asleep when Jyn says, “Hey Cass?”

“Yeah?”

“What I said I was thankful for earlier...” She hesitates. “You’re on that list too, you know.”

He tries to fight a grin but he can’t help it. “You’re a sap.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” she says.

He hums, and his arms rise and fall as she breathes deeply and slowly. Her whole body shifts with each breath, and he’s aware of all the places that they’re touching. Their arms, their hands, the way their knees come together. He takes a second to feel it all, and says, “I won’t.”

\--

Cassian stirs at the sound of a knock on his door.

The first thing he notices is that he has a face full of Jyn's hair. His whole body is warm and sleep-heavy, and he has to back his head out of the way to free it from her dark locks.

The second thing he notices is Mom standing in the doorway, a disapproving look on her face.

His whole stomach drops, realizing how this must look. His arm is wrapped securely around Jyn's waist, pulling her flush against his front. They aren't even under the blankets, so the way their legs tangle together is completely visible. He doesn't mean to react so quickly, but he immediately removes his arm and sits up, leaving Jyn to stir at his absence.

"Hey Mom," he says, trying to sound normal and not guilty, because he really hasn't done anything wrong, but it's always hard to tell how a mom will take things.

She raises a brow, but her voice is completely even when she says, "Bob and Mallory are leaving in a minute, I thought you two might want to say goodbye."

"Oh," he says, and by this time Jyn is sitting up as well, her features arranged into something half-guilty, half-unsure. "Yeah, we'll be right down."

Mom just nods and backs out of the doorway. Cassian drops his head into his hands and groans, and Jyn places a hand on his back, rubbing it in small circles.  

He tilts his head towards her, pushing his hand through his hair and offering her a defeated smile. "So that was awkward."

"We were just napping," Jyn says, like it's not a big deal. She shrugs her shoulders. "I'm sure it's fine."

"Yeah, okay," he says, but has to climb over her in order to get up. "We should probably say goodbye."

"Yeah," she says, and she looks at him, one of those heavy looks that he hasn't been able to decipher since day one. Her hands smooth down her sweater, and she goes ahead of him out the door.

\--

Bob and Mallory offer hugs and can't seem to stop telling Jyn how nice it was to meet her. Jyn is caught up in it, hugging them back and talking to them in the foyer, when Mom puts her hand on Cassian’s shoulder and says, "We should talk."

He looks over at her, and they've both stepped away from the others. He doesn’t like the way she looks at him, closed off and expressionless, but he nods anyways.

They go down the hall and into the kitchen, where everything's been cleaned up. The only things left out are the pots that are too big for the dishwasher and need to be washed by hand.

Mom sits at the kitchen table and looks at the seat next to her expectantly. Cassian hates that even though he's almost twenty years old, situations like this still make him feel like a child.

"You should've told me," Mom says as soon as he sits down. "I wouldn’t have cared that she’s your girlfriend, Cassian, but I'm not happy that you lied to me. You've led me to believe that she's just a friend who needed somewhere to go for Thanksgiving--"

"She is," Cassian interrupts, suddenly feeling a little dizzy. "It's not like that with us."

She raises an unimpressed brow, obviously not believing him. "That's definitely not what it looked like to me."

"We're just really close," he explains, and it's the truth, it's the truth, it's the truth, so why does he feel guilty? "We've even talked about it, Mom. She's not my girlfriend; there's nothing there, I promise."

And he watches her carefully, because he can hear the front door close and the voices in the other room carry on quietly. Mom looks at him, and her lips pull up to one side thoughtfully. "You like her, though, don't you?"

Either he’s super obvious, or his mother knows him very, very well. He shrugs. "It's not important."

"Of course it is, dear," she says, and her whole face softens. "I can see why you like her, she's a very lovely girl."

"That doesn't make a difference when she doesn't like me back," he says, feeling a sense of irritation rising in his throat. "Like I said, we're just friends, and I don't think that's going to change."

Mom backs up in her seat a little, narrowing her eyes at him for a moment before letting out a breath. "All right. You know your situation better than I do. To me, it seems like she adores you, but if you say she doesn't, then maybe she doesn't."

She looks at him expectantly but Cassian doesn't have anything to say. He feels like he's been punched in the stomach, because he thought he could finally be done with questioning how Jyn feels about him. It just doesn't seem fair. He doesn't want to make a choice between trusting what Jyn said and interpreting how she acts, but the truth is that the two contradict each other.

And it's a lot to take in.

"Why don't you go see if the others are ready for pie and a movie?" Mom asks, getting up from the kitchen table and retrieving the pie from the refrigerator. "Forget that I asked about it."

He looks at her, and her profile is softened by the light hitting the warm wooden cabinets, but he still doesn't have anything to say. He nods to himself and leaves the kitchen, pushing his uneasiness aside.

\--

It's simpler to fall back into their normalcy than he thought it would be. Jyn sits next to him on the couch downstairs, each of them with a plate of pie in their hands.

"I thought I'd never eat again, but look at me now," she says while Dad sets up the movie. "Sean, this is the best pie I've ever had in my life."

Dad winks at her and joins Mom on the other side of the couch. Casey has one of the lounge chairs to herself, and the lights get turned off so they’re completely in the dark until the tv lights up.

Home Alone starts to play, and Cassian smiles to himself as he watches Jyn fully settle in. They share a blanket, and he catches a stray look from Mom, but she just smiles and turns back to the movie. Cassian feels distracted. He mostly watches the movie, but his eyes also tilt towards Jyn every now and then, watching the way the light of the tv flashes and ignites her pretty features--even the way the light catches her teeth and makes them shiny in the dark. Somehow it makes him nostalgic for when she was just a stranger and these little things were all he knew her by.

And maybe he feels restless because it’s been a while since he’s sat and watched a whole movie. He’s watched a few with Jyn before, but they always end up talking through the entire thing, neither of them able to sit still long enough to pay attention, both of them enabling each other.

But she seems engaged now, eating her pie and laughing particularly loudly when Buzz offers to throw up his food for Kevin on screen. Cassian forces his attention away from her, watching half in a daze, half in thought--wondering what it was that made Mom say, _To me, it seems like she adores you..._

\--

Good nights are said after the movie. Mom and Dad go upstairs, following behind Casey, who blinks her tired eyes longingly at Jyn and Cassian, who are content to stay up.

"Do you want some tea?" he asks Jyn at the foot of the stairs.

She hums to herself but then she nods. "Sure, why not. You seem to be the expert on tea."

"Hardly," he says with a small laugh. They go to the kitchen, flicking on just the light over the stove so that the dark sits around them but can't reach them all the way. "I just really like it."

"Well, I like the way you like it," she says, and Cassian kind of can't believe it, that's she real and she's in his kitchen, leaning against the counter next to him as he puts the kettle on.

"You are such a sap this weekend," he says. "What is it? Is it Thanksgiving that's gotten you all soft?"

She shrugs, but there's something about the way her eyes squint into something happy that says otherwise. "I don't know, it's just nice being here. Maybe it feels safer to say things here."

"Now what does that mean?" he asks, pouring the hot water into two mugs.

"You never feel like that?" she asks in return, moving to the refrigerator to get the milk out for him. "That somehow saying things at home makes it more real? It's like, when everything else feels out of place, you feel more comfortable saying things that would normally challenge you."

"Um, I don’t think so," he says to himself as he finishes preparing the tea. He hands her one of the mugs and nods towards the hall. "Come on, let's sit and maybe you can explain it to me in a way that I'll understand."

"Fine," she says, something exasperated but something fond as she leads the way into the living room. The wood stove burns at the same lowness as it did last night, filling the room with the softest touch of light that Cassian sinks into. They resume the same seats as well, maybe a little closer tonight, and Jyn blows softly across the top of her mug, steam pouring out from all sides.

“So explain this to me again,” he requests. “You feel more comfortable when you’re not at home?”

"I guess that doesn't make sense, does it?" she asks, and purses her lips, glancing at the fire before visibly relaxing and turning towards him. "It's like this: when you're not home, things don't feel as real. There's a certain kind of comfort I find away from Whitebridge that allows me to be more open, I guess. If it isn't real, then there won't be consequences."

"Consequences?" he questions, only half understanding what she's saying.

"Not like getting in trouble," she clarifies. "But...I don't know, it's hard to explain. I hate being vulnerable or soft, but here it doesn't seem like such a bad thing. Here...I don't have to worry about acting a certain way. I can be more honest with myself."

Cassian is slow to nod, but Jyn watches him carefully, and he knows that she's opening up to him in a way that she hasn't before. She's peeling back a layer and putting herself in a place where she's completely visible. He wants to be grateful for it, he wants to ask about her parents and Saw Gerrera and Bodhi, but he looks at her like this, unsure of herself, and Cassian thinks about what she's really saying.

"Do you feel like since everyone in Whitebridge knows you so well that you have to fit into what their perception of you is, even if that's something that's changed?" he asks.

"Yeah," she says softly, and frowns down at her tea. "It’s uh, it can be difficult, I guess.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “Nah, it is what it is--it's not like I'm unhappy or anything. Like I said, sometimes it's just nice to get away and feel like I can say or do whatever I want."

“Hey,” he says, and reaches for one of her hands. Their clasp is still warm from holding the hot mugs and Cassian smiles when Jyn threads her fingers through his. “I’m always here for you, okay? I’ll always listen.”

And Cassian feels like he’s gotten good at reading Jyn, he’s spent enough time watching her face shuffle through emotions that he knows what means what. He knows the little downturn of her lips when she’s unhappy about something but not enough to speak up about it, or the way her left eye squints a little more than her right when she’s confused--there’s a multitude of reactions that give her away, but despite this, Cassian can’t quite read the way she looks now.

She watches him and then she doesn’t, her gaze meets his and then falls back down to her lap. Her brows draw together and then return to normal, her lips splitting into a smile and she shakes her head. Each little thing makes sense on its own, but together it’s a confusing array of emotions that plays out too quickly.

“Thanks, Cass,” she says, and he only realizes that they’re still holding hands when she squeezes his fingers and lets go. “You too, for that matter. You’ve got me.”

 _You’ve got me_. Cassian takes a deep breath, but he smiles on the exhale.

“Anyways,” she continues. “What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”

“Up to you, I guess,” he says, okay with the change of subject. “There’s this park nearby that’s always been a favorite, I was thinking we could take Casey there if you want. If not, I could think of something else.”

“No that sounds perfect,” Jyn says, relief on her features. “She’s such a doll.”

“Yeah, she’s okay,” he says, and laughs at the way Jyn pushes his shoulder. “No, of course I love her. I love all of them. Coming home just makes it that much harder to go back.”

Jyn frowns but doesn’t say anything at first. She looks like she wants to, but holds back.

“I don’t mean that--it’s not that I don’t like Whitebridge,” he tries to clarify. “I don’t know. I’m here and I think about Bodhi and Leia and K2 and I miss them too, you know? How can you live in two places at once?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I’ve never had to.”

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Well it’s confusing. Life’s been changing a lot lately, I guess I feel a little out of place.”

“Now _that_ I understand,” she says with a small laugh, just something that slips under the words. “You’ll get through it though, everything will work out for the best. It has to, because you’re the best.”

“For the record,” he begins, smiling, “Wortham Jyn is my favorite.”  

\--

Once they’re upstairs they face each other again, passing goodnights and exchanging hugs in the dark hallway. The light still can’t reach them all the way, but he can see enough to catch the shape of her eyes, her lips, the curve of her chin. He looks at her like this and he can’t believe it, that he’s here and she’s here and they have two more days to spend entirely in each other’s company.

He thinks about sitting around a table, saying aloud what they’re thankful for, but for now he thinks he’ll keep this one to himself.

\--

At breakfast the next morning they run the idea of taking Casey to the park past Mom, who’s in complete support of it. So once they’ve finished their food they go upstairs to bundle up, meeting back in the foyer, covered in heavy coats, mittens, and scarves. Jyn pulls a knitted headband around her ears and Casey dons a bright red beanie that matches her coat, but Cassian leaves his head bare.

He’ll be fine.

He’s more than fine in the car. They’re so bundled that they get too hot, having to open the windows a crack to let some of the freezing air in, and it’s such a funny picture. Them, sweating in their winter gear with the car windows open and the heat off.

The radio plays loudly, some pop song that Casey sings along with, and the morning light drags over the road and casts the shadows of the clouds onto the mountains in the distance.

When they get to the park Casey runs ahead of them as stray twigs and rocks kick under their shoes. Their steps crunch over the dirt path and Cassian blinks back the low sun that slips between the empty branches of the tall trees. They stretch and knock into each other, blowing freely in the breeze. The pine trees sit lower, full of needles, and Cassian only half notices because he's keeping an eye on Casey's bright red winter coat.

Beside him, Jyn knocks her shoulder against his. "This is nice," she says. "Do you come here often?"

"I used to," he answers. "This is where we usually spend Father's Day, and growing up we'd always come on Sundays in the fall. I loved it more than anything, you know, watching the trees change color and spending time with my parents. We'd go home and Mom would always make soup. I don't know why, but that was her thing every Sunday. She'd leave the slow cooker on and we'd come here and walk the long trail."

There's a moment of quiet between them, interrupted by Casey shouting something up ahead. She's on the playground, climbing up the interlocking balconies to get to the slide. Jyn laughs to herself. "That sounds like a dream."

"Yeah? I guess it was," he says. "I stopped coming as much when I got a bit older. Mom and Dad would still come with Casey but I'd usually be hanging out with my friends or working. I didn't mind that so much, but this is a place I'll always miss, even when I'm here."

"You miss it right now?"

He shrugs a shoulder, and they're still walking towards Casey, who hops up onto the monkey bars. Her big white scarf bunches up around her chin and ears. "Yeah, I mean, it's never the same, right? It was such a consistent thing for so long, and now it's different."

"That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, though," Jyn offers.

"No, not at all. But I'm not eight anymore."

She laughs. "Thank God."

He smiles at her reaction, and he takes his eyes from the path ahead of them and looks over at her. "What were you like at eight?"

"Pretty much the same, everyone in Whitebridge can attest to that. Probably a bit more wild than I am now."

"That's possible?"

"Ha, ha," she says. "I was a bit of a troublemaker, yeah. I got rowdy with the kids at school--always felt like I had a point to prove. On top of that, I was super competitive. It's amazing I even had friends."

He tries to picture a much younger Jyn. "Did you still have this hairdo?"

When he looks over at her again, her nose is scrunched up and she looks at him with a smile. "The bangs are eternal," she says. "I don't think that they've ever been longer this."

"Good," he says. "I like them."

"I like you," she says easily, and Cassian feels those words in his chest. It makes him think of their conversation last night, how everything feels easier for her to say aloud here. If he’s honest with himself he’s very, very happy about it.

Ahead of them Casey drops down the fire pole with a thud that Cassian doesn’t like the sound of, but she gets up quickly and brushes off the mulch chips before heading back up.

“I like you too,” he says, even though the break in conversation feels too long to pick it back up again, even though it’s insanely obvious just how much he likes her.

She smiles at him before asking, “Remember when we played on the playground?”  

“Of course,” he says, and they approach the swings again, but this time they just sit in them, swaying idly. “I thought I was gonna have to take you to the hospital, which would’ve been a disaster because I was too drunk to do so.”

She laughs, it’s bright and it echoes into the empty space. “Yeah, I had a pretty bad bruise on my hip, it’s only just starting to go away.”

“Really?” he asks, glancing down at her hips automatically. “Which side?”

Her hand pats her right hip, and she leans her head against the chain, right by her other hand, all sugar white skin against the metal links.

“I guess a rematch is out of the question, then?” he suggests. “It would probably be unwise.”

“I’m ready for you, Andor, bring it on,” she says, and snaps out of her lazy swing, pumping her legs forward.

“No, no!” he cries out, laughing. “You’re still too fragile, Jyn. We can’t let anything happen to you!”

“Shut up,” she says, her voice disrupted by her swinging forward and then back. Forward and then back, Cassian’s chest tightening with each swoop of motion. She slows down, though, dragging her feet in the mulch and looks at him seriously. “A. I was too drunk that night to be jumping off of a swing, and B. I think you’re just scared that I’ll beat you this time.”

“Oh, please,” he says. And isn’t it funny to be talking about that night so casually? Isn’t it funny that it doesn’t seem awkward or like they did something wrong even though they made out in a tree house shortly after the whole swing debacle?

Isn’t it funny that Cassian wishes he could either erase that moment or live in it forever?

“Jyn!” Casey calls from the slide, but she’s making her way over towards them.

“Yeah?”

“Can we take a picture together?” she asks once she’s standing by the swings. There’s such an openness about the question, the way her eyebrows raise in hope and her hands tug on the ends of her scarf.

“Of course,” Jyn answers easily, rising from the swing. She hands Cassian her phone and goes back to Casey, putting a hand on her shoulder and making herself just a little shorter. Cassian laughs to himself as he opens the camera app and frames the two of them in the picture. A bright red coat against the muted shades of winter approaching--pine trees and dead grass and two blinding smiles.

“Will you take one of me and Cass?” Jyn asks after they part and Cassian gives the phone back to her. It’s then handed to Casey, who agrees and back up and away from them.

“I’ll take a couple,” she says, and Cassian puts an arm around Jyn and tugs her close. Her hand goes to his waist and he beams at the camera. They don’t have a lot of pictures together because they’re never really on their phones when they’re with each other, but what they do have is a few selfies here and there, always with their heads tipped together and beaming.

(There are, admittedly, some very terrible pictures of them making the worst faces with Snapchat filters on, but Cassian only looks at those when he needs a good laugh.)

“Can I see?” he asks when Jyn looks at it, and she points the screen in his direction.

“It’s a good one,” she says. He looks down at it and yeah, of course it is.

“Yeah,” he answers softly. He looks at Jyn and then down at Casey, who’s getting a little antsy. “All right, kids, lets get moving.”

They take off down one of the familiar paths, walking three across with Jyn in the middle. There’s that same sound of twigs and fallen leaves crunching under their boots, and the wind pushes through the pine trees and the empty trees, knocking the bare branches against each other. There’s Casey, who talks about school and her friends and anything that comes to her mind, and there’s Jyn, who listens patiently and encourages her to keep talking.

And all of it is nice in a way that feels _too_ nice. It feels like home, like family, and Cassian tries not to go there but it’s hard not to. It’s easy to blur the lines between this reality and one in which he and Jyn are together. The only real difference would be that he would reach over and hold her hand, maybe kiss her when Casey runs ahead of them at the old farmhouse.

But it’s not like he hasn’t done either of those things before...

They explore the farmhouse--which consists of walking around the back and peering into the windows. The empty rooms sing of what used to be, with post and beam architecture crafting rooms that could’ve been a kitchen or a dining room or whatever their imagination comes up with. Cassian tells them an old story that he grew up hearing, about a man who went crazy and locked himself away in the house for years until one night he disappeared completely.

Casey and Jyn both laugh, which might not be the right reaction, but it makes Cassian laugh too and they keep walking down the path that cuts through the field. The trees stretch away from them and the mountains lay ahead of them, shadowed and hazy in the mid afternoon sun.

At one point Jyn _does_ reach for his hand but he pulls his away quickly. Jyn’s brows draw together when she looks up at him, but he shakes his head and juts his chin towards Casey. It’s one thing telling Mom that they’re not in a relationship, but it would be difficult to explain it to Casey. For one, she would be too excited if he and Jyn were dating; he doesn’t think she’d quite understand otherwise. For another reason, he doesn’t want to say the words again. They don’t fit right inside of his mouth.

Jyn’s lips tilt down at the sides and she turns her attention back to the path, but she continues talking as though she’s fine, so Cassian doesn’t really know what to make of it. Of course his hands want to reach out towards her, it’s just--it wouldn’t be right. Here.

They’re nearly back to the parking lot when Casey starts to complain about being tired. Cassian rolls his eyes fondly and offers to give her a piggyback, crouching down in front of her. She throws her arms around his neck and jumps on; Jyn watches in amusement.

“How come you’ve never offered me a piggyback ride?” she asks. “They seem useful.”

“You’ve never asked,” he says, and he winks at her.

She laughs. “I’ll have to remember that.”

And as the late afternoon approaches, the sun dips low between the trees. They’re back in the car, and the tires roll over the back streets of Wortham. The light feels like it’s dropped down to meet them, aimed level with the car. It draws shadows up the dashboard and across Cassian’s hands, which rest securely around the steering wheel. He feels blurry, in a way, something so unusual and usual at the same time. The sun draws down the sky and he’s in a car with two of his favorite people, and it doesn’t get much better than this, does it?

He glances at Jyn’s hands folded neatly in her lap, and thinks _maybe just a little_.

“I think your car is starting to feel like home,” she says.

Cassian smiles. “We’ve certainly spent enough time in here.”

“It’s not the worst thing in the world.”

“A little cramped, maybe,” he says, looking into the rearview where he can see Casey has fallen asleep with her head against the window. “I think my next car will definitely be bigger.”

“Oh yeah?” she says. “Like an SUV?”

“A guy can dream, can’t he?”

“Hey, if that’s your dream then I think you’ll be very happy in life. Just--maybe don’t tell Uncle Bob.”

Laughing, Cassian scrunches up his nose, catching the light across his chest now. “What about you though? I know you’re convinced you don’t need to drive, but do you ever want to?”

She hums. “I’ve thought about it. It might be fun, might be terrifying. You never know.”

“We can find out,” he offers, mostly teasing. “I’ll pull over right now and we can switch places.”

“I’m not going to drive for the first time with your sister in the back seat,” she says quickly, but then she rolls her eyes and says, “Maybe later.”

“You’d let me teach you how to drive?”

She shrugs. “Why not?”  

He breathes out a short laugh at that, but he thinks about it even as quiet settles over the car. He thinks about her hands and the way she reaches for him, the way they’re always drawing closer and closer to one another, and he thinks _why not?_

\--

At dinner that night Jyn says to Dad, “So I’ve heard that you guys are really into playing Life. I must admit that I’m a little jealous and I’ve been wanting to play ever since Cassian told me about it.”

Mom and Dad both laugh at that, and Mom says, “We could do it tonight, if you want.”

“I have to warn you,” Dad says. “We won’t go easy on you just because you’re our guest.”

Jyn laughs. “I would hate it if you did.”

So that’s how they end up in the dining room with The Game of Life sitting on the table. The board is covered in bright colorful squares, and four little cars with four little people in them--two pink, two blue--sit at the starting point. They cleaned up the kitchen after dinner and came in here, and there are only four cars, so Casey's watching from Dad's lap, but she wasn't much interested in playing, anyway.

"We've always played it with the youngest going first, and then rotate around the table from there," Mom says.

"Cassian..." Jyn says with a grin, but he just rolls his eyes.

"Fine," he says, spinning the little spinner, landing on the number eight.

"Are you going to college?" Dad asks. He has the stacks of fake money set up next to him, always the banker, always in charge.

"Um, no," Cassian decides on. "I'll take my chances."

Jyn shakes her head. "That's a bold move."

"Well I'm a bold kind of guy," he says, but the career card he picks is Salesperson, and he only makes $20,000 a year, so maybe it wasn't the right move. Either way, everyone laughs at him.

“Rookie mistake,” Mom says. “You’d think that you would’ve learned by now.”

It's Jyn's turn next, and she pays up the money to go to college. "Because I like making wise decisions," she claims.

Mom and Dad also go to college, and they all mock him every chance he gets. Like when he lands on the space that makes him pay $20,000 for a luxury vacation, there’s a chorus of variations on: “This wouldn’t have happened if you went to college.”

Even Casey joins in, and she’s not even playing.

It’s safe to say that his decision to go to night school surprises no one. He’s in dead last already, having picked an expensive house, meanwhile Jyn is a brain surgeon with a mobile home. He doesn’t hesitate to sue her when he lands on the space.

“I can’t believe I considered you a friend,” she says.

“Why?” he asks, gladly accepting the $100,000 slip of paper from her. “Either you’re pitying me or displaying an incredible sense of humility.”

“I’m gonna go for the former,” she says, spinning the wheel and glaring at him.

Mom lands on the same space a couple of turns later, lifting a brow when she looks at Cassian.

“No,” he complains. “This is my only accomplishment in this game.”

“Relax,” she says. “I’m going to sue someone who actually has a chance at winning.”

She looks to Dad, then, who just rolls his eyes and takes a $100,000 slip of his own and slides it across the table to her.

It doesn’t stop him from winning, though. Or gloating, for that matter. Cassian comes in dead last, and Jyn’s more than a little upset because she only lost by $20,000. But all in all? It’s a good time.

\--

"We should probably have some more pie, shouldn't we?" Cassian suggests after everyone's gone to bed. It's funny, being the only ones up at this time. It's only a little past ten, and he knows his parents are settling in upstairs, watching the news while they get ready for bed.

But him and Jyn have the whole main floor to themselves again, and Jyn raises a brow at him. "Well, we can't let it go to waste, can we?"

They cut small slices of pie and take it into the living room. Once again they're met with the fire, burning low and surrounding them with just a small amount of light, but tonight it's enough.

For them, it's enough.

"I'm telling you, this is the best pie I've ever had," Jyn says. "Your dad is a genius."

Cassian laughs. "He puts like, half a carton of ice cream in it, of course it's good."

"That's good to know," she says, pointing her fork at him, and the light glints off the metal. "On a not unrelated topic, what kind of cake do you like?"

He's looking down at his plate but at the question he meets her gaze with a grin, asking with his best faux-innocence, "Why?"

"Oh, no reason," she says casually, but her lips give her away--splitting into a grin. She squeezes her eyes shut. "I just realized that I should've asked your mom. Forget I said anything!"

"Jyn Erso, are you planning a birthday party for me?"

"I'm not admitting to anything!"

"You're planning a birthday party for me."

"Cassian," she says, drawing his name out. She tips her head back in frustration but she's still half-laughing and it makes the muscles in her neck jump. The sight makes Cassian's stomach jump. "Whatever, it's not like it's a surprise party."

"Or it _wasn't_ a surprise party."

She shakes her head. "I mean, you don't know any of the details, so it's not completely spoiled for you."

"If I guess them correctly will you tell me?" he asks, because his curiosity is peaked.

"No," she says firmly. "So don't even try."

He squints his eyes at her, but doesn't push it. "I can't believe you're throwing me a birthday party, what a good friend you are."

“Hey,” she says, and her hand fiddles with the blanket that covers both of them. She bites her lip, and for a second the light of the fire touches her teeth. “Remember that thing we were talking about last night? How it’s more comfortable to talk openly here?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I just--you know, you’re kind of like my best friend, Cass.”

His heart pounds in his chest, full of a warmth that feels detached from the room. She looks so sincere, watching him openly now. His lips split into a grin, and he teases, “Kind of?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, you definitely are. I mean, we haven’t known each other for that long but it’s felt like forever, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, because he knows exactly what she’s talking about. He knows--he feels it with his whole body. “Yeah, I think it has been forever.”

“And, you know, forever is kind of nice.”

If Cassian’s honest with himself, he can’t really believe that she’s saying this to him. Jyn--closed off, vulnerably vacant--telling him he’s her best friend? She’s placing this before him and trusting him to not only keep it safe, but potentially without reciprocation.

It’s unreal.

“Come here,” he says, leaning back against the couch and tugging on her arm. She comes closer, crowding him in, and they’re body to body. It’s as soft as the snow meeting the ground, the same silence filling the space around them. It feels alive and real, energized like when the power comes back on after hours without it: nothing, and then everything at once.

Isn’t that how it is with her? Everything all at once...

Her hair brushes his neck, and she’s entirely on top of him. Her legs settle between his and his arms come around her waist. She rests her hands on his and their bodies are warm where they meet, soft and pliable and _closer, closer, close..._

“Forever’s kind of perfect, I’d say,” he mumbles.

She laughs, and he can feel the way the muscles in her stomach move with it. “Now who’s the sap?”

“Wait, so am I a sap or a baby?” he asks. “And why don’t you have any nice nicknames for me? It’s like you don’t like me or something.”

She laughs again, and Cassian ignores the desire to tighten his grip, to feel closer, to hold her steady--

“Definitely a baby,” she says. “And sometimes a sap. Why should I pick one? You’re everything, Cass.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

He pouts even though she can’t see it, staring up at the dark ceiling that the light moves against. “Does that make me mean?”

She hums. “Maybe not everything.”

“You said everything.”

“I say a lot of things,” she says, and her voice is something soft--something sad. She picks up his left hand then, and her touch is gentle as she arranges his fingers so that they’re all straight and spread out. Lifting his hand up and out, she holds it in front of  them, lining it up with the wood stove so that it turns into a silhouette. Their hands, his flat and hers at his wrist, turn into something else. The edges glow--just the edges let the light through.

Cassian doesn’t know what it means.

Yeah, their hands turn into something else and the night turns into something else. Like a dance: quick, quick, slow. Slower and slower, she pulls his hand back to where it was but doesn’t let go. Her finger draws down and then up, tracing the letter _J_ onto his palm.

And then a _Y_.

And then an _N_.

They’ve done this before, and last time they kissed. Cassian swallows heavily but nothing happens. Quiet sits between them, not unwelcome but not well understood, either. The quiet sits between them for a long time, their bodies warm and heavy, and Cassian nearly falls asleep but he knows that it wouldn’t be a good idea.

Some time later, he isn’t sure how long it takes, they get up off of the couch and drag themselves up the stairs. In the dark hallway they face each other again, just like the past two nights. Jyn reaches out to him and places her hand on his waist, and the way she grips his sweater seems like she’s asking _where are you?_

He doesn’t reach out, but rather he places his hand over hers, a way to say _I’m here_.

They pass goodnights between each other, and Cassian half stumbles into his room, blindly finding his bed. The weight of the night drags him down, and he lets himself recall and relive each sensation until he falls asleep.

\--

He wakes to the feeling of a cool hand on his bare shoulder.

He groans, disoriented, as he rolls onto his back. He's so warm under his duvet, heavy with sleep, and wrapped up completely. He hesitates to open his eyes, feeling so good where he's snuggled in his bed.

But then the hand shakes his shoulder, and Cassian groans again, mumbling, "What?"

"I thought maybe last time was a fluke, but you're pretty difficult to wake up, you know."

That's Jyn's voice. Cassian's eyes open to the sight of her sitting at the edge of his bed, her hand is still on his bare skin, and Cassian's too fuzzy with sleep to really make sense of it.

"Why?" It's the only word that his brain provides.

"Why are you so difficult to wake up?" she asks. "Beats me. Why am I waking you up? We're going out to breakfast and _someone_ doesn't get up at seven like the rest of us. Your mom asked me to get you."

He groans again. "What time is it?"

"8:30, sleepyhead, and it's the Saturday after Thanksgiving, so we want to get going before anywhere gets too crowded."

“Okay,” he agrees, and forces himself to sit up, because if he stays where he is he’s going to fall back asleep. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.”

He was rubbing his eye but when he looks at Jyn she’s feigning a look the other way. He glances down at his bare chest and then back up at her curiously.

“Well, I’ll see you downstairs,” she says quickly, and meets his eyes with a short nod before heading out of his room.

He half laughs to himself, kicking his legs over the side of the bed, and wonders when--if ever--he’ll understand Jyn Erso.

\--

Mom, Dad, Casey, and Jyn are waiting in the foyer. Jyn’s talking to his parents and Casey is impatiently holding onto the banister and letting her weight fall back. They all collectively look up at Cassian when he descends the staircase.

“Finally,” Casey says, and Cassian gives her a look.

“I was thinking we could take separate cars,” he says, directing the suggestion towards Mom, because she’ll have the loudest opinion on it anyway. “That way Jyn and I can head out after breakfast.”

“All right,” she says. “Do you want to take Casey with you on the way there?”

“Yeah, we’ll take the little nugget,” he says, ruffling her hair a little, which makes her laugh as she reaches up to smooth it out.

And breakfast is good. He sits across from Jyn, so he gets to watch her as she reads over the menu, and he gets to see the happy little smile she has when the waitress sets her pancakes in front of her. She kicks Cassian under the table every now and then, and once they’re done eating she tells Mom about when he was sick.

“I’ve never seen a more sympathetic human being in my life,” she says, grinning at him. “Poor thing passed out on the couch for hours.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” he mumbles, but he knows it’s true. Jyn, anyway, gives him an unimpressed look.

Mom shakes her head. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because I didn’t want to make you worry about me,” he says, but Mom genuinely looks a little miffed. “And I had a good nurse. She made me soup.”

“Healing soup,” Jyn clarifies. “You got better remarkably quickly.”

“Yes I did,” he agrees hastily, smiling at Mom.

She just shakes her head again, giving Dad a look. “You send your kids out into the world, think they’re perfectly fine, and then find out they just don’t tell when they’re not.”

“I’m fine now,” he offers.

She rolls her eyes at him, but looks to Jyn. “Well thank you for taking care of my baby, he can be particularly difficult when he’s sick.”

Jyn raises a brow at Cassian. “A baby, huh?”

He goes to say _shut up_ but he knows Mom would say something about that, so it comes out more of a shushing sound that has them both laughing.

Casey, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be enjoying breakfast. She’s sitting to Cassian’s left and she keeps talking to him and trying to get his attention, which, yeah, is fine, but it’s starting to feel excessive, like if he doesn’t acknowledge her right away she’s going to lose it.

It gets even worse as they’re leaving and she realizes that she’s not going out with him and Jyn.

“But you see Jyn all the time,” she complains. “When are you gonna play with me?”

He sucks in a long breath, looking up and Mom and Dad, who look to be about three seconds from stepping in, and Jyn, who watches them guiltily.

“Hey,” he says before anyone else can. “Hey, why don’t we have a quick talk, okay? Just you and me?”

She nods, curly hair blowing in the breeze, and Cassian puts a hand on her shoulder, nodding at his parents and at Jyn.

“I’ll wait in the car,” Jyn says, and he gives her the keys before he walks to a more secluded section of the parking lot with Casey in tow.

He bends down so that they’re on the same level and nudges her hand. “What’s up, Case?”

Her pout is adorable but it tugs at Cassian’s chest. In a small voice she says, “I’ve been waiting for forever for you to come home and all you do is hang out with Jyn.”

“We had lots of fun all day yesterday” he reminds her. “And we got to watch the dog show together on Thanksgiving. We’ve spent a lot of time together this weekend.”

“But you’re leaving me today,” she says.

“Case, I’ll be back this afternoon,” he reasons. “I know it seems like we’re leaving you out but Jyn’s our guest and I want to spend time with her too.”

“Why can’t I come?”

“Because we’re going to do boring stuff,” he says, sounding half convincing even to himself. It’s not that he wants to leave her out, necessarily, but he wants to show Jyn around Wortham and he knows Casey won’t have much fun. He smiles at her. “We’ll come home soon and we’ll hang out with you and have fun together, okay? Whatever you want.”

“Can we watch Moana?” she asks.

“Of course.”

She offers him a smile but not much else. He pulls her in for a hug, and her arms go freely around his neck, holding him tight.

“Love you,” he says, pulling back and looking her in the eye. “And I miss you every day when I’m not home, okay? You’re my favorite little sister.”

It's slow, but she grins at him with her teeth--even though she's missing some--and says, “Love you too, Cassie.”

“All right, come on,” he says, and they go back to where his parents are still waiting.

“Everything okay?” Dad asks, and Cassian just nods, watching as the three of them--his family--go back to Dad’s old Subaru.

He gets in his own car, shaking a little from the cold. Jyn’s turned the ignition on, so the heat’s already going. It’s warm, and Cassian feels the rush of the morning slow down as he tips his head back onto the seat, closing his eyes.

“How’s Casey?” Jyn asks.

“She’s okay,” he says. “Sometimes I forget how young she is, but we pulled through. She wants to watch Moana this afternoon.”

“Am I invited, or is this a Cassian and Casey thing?”

“No you’re definitely invited, she loves you.”

“Well I don’t know, she seemed pretty bent on me being out of the picture.”

“That’s just because she’s cranky and wants to spend time with me.”

There’s a long pause between them and then: “You’re a good big brother,” she says softly.

“See, it’s times like these where I question that. I love her--I love my whole family--and sometimes I just feel so guilty for moving away, you know? Like I’m missing out, or that I’m abandoning her.”

Jyn doesn’t say anything for a while, he looks over at her and she has her head bent down, staring at her lap with her lips pulled tight into something close to a frown. But she lifts her head again, traces of that look gone, and Cassian turns his attention towards backing out of the parking space.

“That makes sense,” she says. “But at the same time you have to live your life too. I mean, you should do what feels right for you and what’s going to provide for the future you want, whether that’s in Wortham or Whitebridge.”

“You’re right,” he says, but quirks his lips to the side. “But sometimes you just don’t know.”

“Would you consider transferring back to Montpelier?”

_Would he?_

“I don’t think so. Like I said the other night, I don’t know how to live in two places,” he says. “At this point Whitebridge is home too, I don’t think I could just leave it.”

She makes a small, short sound, but when he looks over at her, her gaze is fixed steadily out the window. “Good,” she says. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

“Good,” he says back, and Jyn shakes her head at him.

“So where are we going?” she asks.

“Wherever,” he answers, and he means it. He drives up the center of town and explains a few places to her, like the corner store he and his friends would bike to as kids, along with a tiny gray and white building: the best ice cream stand in town.

“You know how you feel about Vanetti’s?” he asks. “That’s exactly my relationship with The Ice Box.”

She laughs. “Makes perfect sense to me. It must be good, then.”

“For sure,” he says. “They don’t open until the summer, so we’ll have to come visit then.”  

Jyn doesn’t say anything, but when he looks over at her she nods distractedly. They drive by a few more places that have interesting stories behind them, and it’s cold so they don’t bother to get out of the car until they get to one of Cassian’s favorite cafes.

He holds the door open for Jyn to enter ahead of him. It’s half coffee shop, half bookstore, so to their right are all the shelves and a wooden staircase that leads to a second floor, and to the left is a counter with a big chalk menu above it. The floors are a dark wood color and there are plush chairs and wooden tables. The blenders and coffee makers clang away behind the counter and the whole shop is full of the warm smell of coffee and brand new books.

“Bodhi would love it here,” Jyn says as they sit down at one of the tables. She has a hot coffee and Cassian has his usual tea. She doesn’t talk about Bodhi very much, which makes sense, he supposes, considering what he knows, so it throws him off to hear her bring him up.

Either way, it’s true. Bodhi would adore this place. He would tuck himself into one of the plush chairs in the far corner, flipping through book after book. Cassian nods, exhaling a laugh. “I feel like I could just drop him off here and leave him for a few hours. I don’t think he’d even notice.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” she says, and hesitates before asking, “How is he, by the way?”

“Good,” Cassian answers automatically. “He went home to Boston for Thanksgiving. You should’ve seen him with all his train schedules. He was so worried about it.”

She smiles but it isn’t happy. “That sounds like him.”

“Yeah,” he says absently. “Maybe the three of us should hang out sometime soon.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he’s mentioned it here and there, I think it’d be fun.”

“Okay,” she says, and she smiles. “I’d like that.”

There’s a beat of quiet between them, filled by all the stray sounds of the shop. Jyn takes a sip of her coffee before she asks, “By the way, what did you do with K2 for the weekend?”

“Our upstairs neighbor offered to take him. He was a little fussy about it but not too bad. Bodhi and I figured it’d be worse if we took him away from his home.”

She laughs. “He’s such a little nut. I love him.”

And Cassian looks at her, really looks at her, because she’s such a huge part of his life and he doesn’t know how that’s possible when he’s only known her for such a short time. Like she’d said last night, it feels like forever. But it has been, hasn’t it? All this time they’ve spent together, all these things they’ve done and all the people they know and how she still claims that K2 only likes her when Cassian’s not around, and the fact that she’s been around K2 enough when Cassian’s not around to say that...

And the fact that they’ve kissed and she said it didn’t have to mean anything. How could it not? How can he look at her and know what it’s like, how can he know how he feels when he’s around her and how her lips feel against his, and not love her?

It just doesn’t seem possible.

He feels it all in his stomach, twisting up with his tea and not quite settling back down. She raises a brow at him, because she can read him just as well as he can read her.

“You want to look at the books?” he asks, needing to clear his throat.

“Sure.”

Cassian doesn’t feel like he’s even really seeing anything. Jyn shows him certain books with funny titles and he laughs, but overall he feels a sense of helplessness, to realize that he’s completely falling for her and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Because he can’t say it, can he? He’s already been there and he was left with nothing.

Jyn ends up buying a book of poetry for her aunt, (“Now my Christmas shopping is done, just like that.” “What, you’re not going to buy me a present?”) and Cassian stands with her at the cash register, fighting the urge to put an arm around her waist, because that would feel normal.

Because that would _be_ normal, if that’s what they were doing.

“Do you want me to carry that for you?” he asks as they leave the store. It’s still cold out and Cassian squints against the breeze that pushes over his face, the breeze that pulls at their coats and their scarves and bites at his exposed skin.

“It’s fine,” she says. “I’m just wondering when I’m going to get my piggyback ride.”

He rolls his eyes but stops walking, leaning toward her in a _if you’re serious, I’m serious_ way. She takes a calculating look at him before she comes around and doesn’t so much jump as she does heave her weight onto his back. She’s heavier than Casey but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Her arms fit snug against his neck and he wraps his hands under her thighs.

“Comfy?” he asks, shifting her weight into something that fits them together better.

“This is perfect, actually,” she says. “We should’ve thought about this earlier.”

He laughs, carrying her the rest of the way to the car, just down the street a little bit. He bends down to let her off, and right before she goes to open the door he says, “Come here.”

It’s just too much to see her like this and not have her close. He pulls her into his arms and hugs her. It’s cold but he doesn’t really care, Jyn wraps her arms--bulky from her wool coat--around him, and stays there. They slightly lose their balance, their combined weight shifting until they have to lean against the car, laughing into each other’s scarves.

Cassian pulls back, and despite the cold he lingers, watching her face. She tips her head back, a smile falls easily over her lips, and he wishes he could lean down and kiss her right now. He knows he’s not supposed to want that but he can’t help it. He looks at her and he just wants to be closer and closer.

He has to force himself out of her embrace, retreating to his side of the car before setting off to drive them home.

\--

Cassian and Jyn sit close together on the couch downstairs, which at this point isn't surprising. They're not very good at being apart.

Casey sits with them, though, and Cassian's never seen Moana but she obviously has. She sings along with the songs and laughs at funny things before they even happen, saying, "Watch this!" before the chicken swallows a rock or falls off the boat or does anything, really.

And it's nice, just to be here with them like this.

After the movie ends Jyn extracts herself from where they were cuddled up, leaving him cold without her body next to his. She says to him, "I'm going to see if your mom wants help with dinner,” and pointedly tilts her head towards Casey.

He holds back a laugh.

"Have fun," he says, and watches her retreat up the stairs. Casey’s quick to take her place on the couch with Mom’s iPad in her hands. She makes Cassian take goofy selfies with her and explains to him all of her favorite games. He really just likes listening to her and seeing her get excited about things she wants to show him. It’s one of those times where he realizes that she’s getting older and he won’t have as many of these moments to spend with her like this, so he takes it in as much as possible, savoring each second.

\--

The thing is, Cassian’s not even paying attention until he hears his name.

He’s just walking upstairs, following the smell of dinner as his grumbling stomach draws him closer to the kitchen. His eyes are tracing the hallway in front of him when he hears Mom say, “I think you’ve been good for Cassian.”

And he should keep going, he should just walk in there and make his presence known, but he hears Jyn answer, “Really? Why do you say that?” and his feet stop him altogether.

“It’s uh, been a little rough for him lately,” Mom goes on to explain, and Cassian’s stomach sinks as he leans against the wall. His eyes fall to the white carpeted floor until they’re only half seeing what’s in front of him.

“Has it?” And no--Jyn doesn’t know. Jyn doesn’t know at all.

He hears some dishes clanking and the sound of the oven door closing. Some footsteps, and then, “He didn’t tell any of us that he’d applied to Whitebridge. Just--one day he was going to school fifteen minutes from home and the next he’s telling me he’s moving an hour and a half away.”

“Just out of the blue?” Jyn asks, and she sounds worried. Cassian shouldn’t keep listening but--

“I suppose not,” Mom says. “But I didn’t think he was unhappy enough that he _would_ move. Anyway, all I know is that I thought he was making a mistake when he left, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen him this happy.”

“He was unhappy?” Jyn asks, her voice sounding sad.  

His stomach feels a little sick. His hunger churns into something else, something that sits low and heavy and drags him down right there. Mom shouldn’t be telling her this, but he can’t just barge in there and tell her that, can he? He’s stuck.

“Yeah,” Mom answers, her voice just as sad. Cassian didn’t want any of this. “He shut down on us for a little while last fall. I suppose it’s not my story to tell, but I just thought you should know that I think you’ve been good for him.”

He doesn’t hear Jyn answer right away, but he doesn’t give it the time to wait for it, either. He draws away from the wall, still only half-seeing the floor in front of him until he reaches the stairs, retreating to his room and pretending that he didn’t hear any of that.

\--

Cassian’s able to pull himself back together before dinner. Coming downstairs and into the kitchen, he's wary of both Jyn and his mom, but they're setting plates of food on the table and chattering away easily.

Jyn does, however, give him a curious look as he sits down. It's a blank expression but also calculating, like she's trying to understand him simply by watching him. He raises a brow, but she gives her head one small shake and sits down at the table as well.

"Before we eat," Dad starts, once they all have their food, "I just want to say thank you to Cassian and Jyn for coming up here for the weekend. It's been a blessing to have you two here, especially you Jyn. You've made this Thanksgiving something very special and this family will always welcome you whenever you want to come back."

"Absolutely," Mom agrees.

"Oh," Jyn says, completely caught off guard. "I was just thinking how incredibly kind it was of you to allow me into your home. Our first night here, Cassian and I were talking about our favorite Thanksgiving memories, and I have to say that this is at the top of my list. I couldn't have asked for anything close to this, so thank you for being so welcoming."

"Any time," Dad says. "And to Cassian, since it's your birthday, I want to say how proud I am of you. Your mother and I have watched you grow from day one, and it's been an honor to be your father when I might not have gotten that chance. I love you, I'm proud of you, and I’m very excited about what the future holds for you."

Cassian looks between his parents, feeling his chest tighten with emotion. He looks at these people and he--he just loves them so much. Even Jyn, who watches him with the smallest smile on her lips. He blinks back the feeling that stirs unsteadily within him, and it's a lot, but it's a good thing.

All of it is a good thing.

He didn't think he'd get back to this point with his family, or at any point with Jyn, but here he is. Here they share dinner and laugh at the stories they tell each other, whether it's about Jyn's customers or Mom's students. Whether it's Cassian telling them about Bodhi and K2, or Casey excitedly telling them about how she gets to say the Pledge of Allegiance in front of her whole grade on Monday. It just fits together. It all settles into the right place and that should make Cassian feel uneasy but it doesn’t.

Because can it really last? Can this really be something he gets to keep?

After dinner Mom brings out a white birthday cake with two candles in the shape of a 2 and a 0. The lights are off and the four of them sing as she places the cake in front of him, the tiny flames wavering with the motion. He looks down at the cake, and in red letters it reads _Happy Birthday._

It reminds him of Jyn's party, the red letters on the wall. From birthday party to birthday party, here they are. From being surrounded by strangers to being surrounded by his family, it's still the two of them. Blue smoke, a greenhouse, and now the low light of the kitchen, spilling like water over the five of them.

Cassian closes his eyes and makes a wish.

\--

The back deck reminds him of Whitebridge, of all places.

It reminds him of trying to bum a cigarette off of Jyn, or that time at Leia’s party, when they watched Luke ignite firecrackers and the way he could feel each _bang_ in his chest. It reminds him of how strange it is to be nostalgic about the things that have just happened, memories that aren’t meant to be missed yet.

He sucks in a breath, just taking a moment for himself. Birthday parties always bring out the melancholic side of him.

The back yard stretches ahead of him, shadows on shadows. They’re gray and murky, as soft as the cold air that slides across his skin. Cold, cold air, he feels like he’s wide awake in a dream.  

The sound of the slide door opening and closing draws him out of his head. He turns, half expecting to see Jyn, but it’s Mom instead. She has a black coat on and she smiles at him with her lips pressed together.

When she comes over to him she smooths a hand across his back, kissing the side of his head where she stands next to him. “My baby boy,” she says. “Twenty years old.”

“Not just yet,” he says, closing his eyes and tipping his head against her.

“This’ll be your first birthday that I won’t see you,” she says, and she comes around and sits next to him. It’s hard to see her clearly, but the lights of the back deck stretch across this distance and touch her right along the lines of her face, something he knows so well.

“I could drive up here,” he offers, even though it’ll be Monday and he has class, and his and Baze’s presentation is due the week after that, so they really need to work on that.

“Don’t be silly, I don’t want you to have to drive all this way,” she says. “Just call me as soon as you wake up, I want to be the first person to wish you a happy birthday.”

“You’ve got it.”

She hesitates. “Cassian?”

“Yeah, Mom?”

She lets out a slow breath, looking down at her hands before turning her attention to him. “I haven’t seen you smoke a single cigarette since you’ve been here.”

He smiles to himself. “I haven’t quit yet, but I’ve been trying.”

Mom watches him for a long time, and even through the milky dark he can see her eyes shine with unshed tears. He shakes his head, but she puts a hand on his knee and says, “You’re doing so good. I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

He covers her hand with his, and they stay out there for what feels like a long time. The quiet, cold air sits between them but it doesn’t feel quiet or cold. Inevitably, though, Mom says, “All right. Your Father and I are going to bed soon, and I believe you have a fireplace date with that lovely lady inside?”

“Not a date,” he reminds her.

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” Mom says. “Give her time.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything, and they both get up. Jyn’s in the kitchen, two blue mugs of tea sit on the counter next to her. She pours a dash of milk in one and looks up at them both as Cassian shuts the door behind them.

“Going to bed?” she asks.

“Just about,” Mom says, and hugs her. They say goodnight, and Jyn looks at Cassian, smiling before holding out one of the mugs for him to take.

“For me?”

“For the birthday boy,” she says quietly. “That was a nice little party.”

He follows her into the living room, through the dark dining room, their steps sure and familiar, and says, “It was nice, wasn’t it? That’s all I need in life.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Keep things simple, you know?”

“Simple,” she repeats, settling into her spot on the couch. “I like it. I remember, when we first started talking I would always complain about Whitebridge and how much I hated it. But I think--I don’t know. Maybe it’s different now.”

“Different?” he asks, spreading the blanket between them and settling the mug between his hands. He sits, facing her, and watches her skin glow the way it always does here. He watches her come alive by the fire’s light and that’s all he wants to see.

“Maybe not completely different,” she says, and when she smiles he can see her teeth. He loves her smile, but something about the way it lights up here sits better in his memory--makes her seem otherworldly. “I still think there’s a lot out there for me to see in the world, and I still plan on leaving, but I don’t think I need to hate Whitebridge for that to happen.”

“What’s changed?”

She half shrugs, but then seems to take the time to think about it. “I was thinking about it after Luke’s accident. These people, you know--the Skywalkers, Baze and Chirrut, even Bodhi, they’ve been there for me my whole life. They love me despite my faults and weaknesses, and they’ve been my family more than my actual family has. And--God help me--I love them too.”

“That’s sweet,” Cassian says, reaching over to touch her hand, just lightly, just a brush of skin against skin.

But Jyn catches his fingers and holds it there. “And _you_ ,” she says, grinning something sly. “You just moved to town, waltzed into that Halloween party, and now here we are.”

Cassian bites down a laugh. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again after that night.”

“It was like, two days later!”

“I remember. I was so relieved when I saw you in that kitchen, but then I drove you home and you argued with me the whole way. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.”

“Oh please, you like it. Plus, I don’t know if that was technically arguing.”

“Well whatever it was, it was fun.”

Her face falls then, and she presses her lips together before taking a deep breath. “I’m so glad you moved to Whitebridge, but come on, Cass, why did you? Why would you leave this?” Her eyes flick to the room and all around them, and there’s such a sense of urgency in her voice that it has Cassian half confused.

“Um,” he says, feeling his stomach drop. He has to let go of her hand to reach over and put his mug down on the table. When he settles back into the couch he takes her hand again, because he needs that comfort, he needs something to draw his attention away if he’s really going to go there.

 _Why should he go there?_ Jyn still doesn’t tell him much about her life. He still doesn’t know about her father, and he’s not supposed to know about Bodhi or Saw or any of it, but she still asks him. He looks up at her, though, with her open expression tinted with worry, and thinks _maybe things are different now_. Maybe this weekend has changed everything

“I was talking to your mom earlier, and she said you were unhappy,” Jyn says, filling in the silence. “She probably shouldn’t have told me, but I think she was worried about you.”

“I was unhappy,” he explains. “Really, really unhappy, and I wanted to get away. I thought if I left Wortham, then maybe it wouldn’t bother me anymore. I thought I could, in a way, start over.”

“Why?” she asks, and it’s just a breath, just a soft exhale shaped around the word, but Cassian can’t deny her anything, can he?

He takes a deep breath. “In hindsight, it was just a terrible idea all around, but after I graduated high school I wanted to find my birth mom.” Jyn’s expression shuts down into something darker, but she still watches him carefully, so he continues, “It took a lot. I tried going through the adoption agency, I had to contact the hospital where I was born, my parents had to make about a million phone calls. I can’t imagine why they were so supportive, God knows that I would have a hard time if my adopted son was trying to find his real parents. But they were. They didn’t complain, all they wanted was to help, and I love them for that. After a while of nothing happening, I was starting to lose hope. I mean _months_ had gone by, but that January, by some miracle, I found her.”

Jyn’s expression changes to shock. “You did?”

“Yeah,” he says with a dry laugh, and it’s something that started bright but turns ugly in his mouth. “I got her full name from the agency, searched through what felt like every single page on Google, but finally I found a website for the company she works at. They had an employee page with her picture and email address on it.”

“You knew for sure that it was her?”

“It was the right name, and she looks just like me, Jyn,” he says. “Or I look like her, I guess. I’m telling you, I was feeling...everything. Nervous, excited, angry, sad, happy--whatever. I took my time writing an email to her, you know, explaining who I was and that I wanted to meet her, that I wanted to tell her about myself and get to know her. I wanted to make sure she knew that I wouldn’t ask her to be my mom, and that I wasn’t expecting anything, but I just wanted to see her. I just wanted to know who she is, because she has my blood, you know? She gave me _life_ , and I don’t know anything about her.”

He can feel his throat dry up, the pain of that time rising and sinking back down. Jyn shakes her head, “I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

Cassian has to take a second to breathe, to swallow down the emotion. “No, not at all. She emailed me back--I’ll never forget it, because I was in class when I got the notification on my laptop. I just packed up my stuff and left the second that I saw who it was from.”

“You didn’t open it right away?”

“I guess some part of me knew that it wouldn’t be a good idea to do it in front of everyone. I went to my car and opened it, and...that was it. She said that it was a bad idea for us to meet, that I was never supposed to contact her or find out who she was, and that I was just a _mistake_ she made when she was a teenager. She said it wasn’t fair to try and come back into her life when she’s had to live with the knowledge that I’m alive. Because--because _she_ moved on with her life, and I’m just something to forget.”

“Cass,” Jyn says, her voice soft and watery. He realizes that he hasn’t been looking at her, but when he does all he can see is her blinking back tears, and it’s strange, because he should feel bad recalling this story, he should feel the wide range of emotions that he’s just dragged back to life--and maybe he’s just blocking that out--but all he can think is that he’s never seen Jyn cry before.

He hates that he’s the reason for it.

“Hey,” he says, and he squeezes her hand. “It’s okay now. At the time it was bad, and I just took that deep down and never let it out, you know? I focused everything I had on _why doesn’t my mother want me?_ and it wasn’t healthy. I felt guilty, too, because Lori is so great, she’s so wonderful and she’s given me so much love in my life--still does, always, and there I was: upset because some woman I don’t know doesn’t want to meet me. I’m not going to deny that it still hurts, and maybe I still don’t get it, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Do you think she’ll ever come around?” Jyn asks, and her voice is quiet.

He shakes his head to himself, looking back down at his lap. “I doubt it. Given the time to think about it, I feel like I must’ve caused her a lot of pain in her life. When it comes down to it, I don’t want to add to that.”

When he looks up it’s to the sight of Jyn coming closer. The blanket bunches between them and she wraps her arms around his neck, holding him close. He doesn’t hesitate to hug her back, pulling her tight against his chest, just to have her as close as possible, just to feel her warm, alive, and _right here_. His mind aches with the emotions he’s just laid out in front of her, but Jyn returns it all. Her embrace pushes him back together and he doesn’t want to let go.

But when he does, her lips catch his, and her hands are on his jaw, warm and steady. His heart pounds as he kisses her back, sugary sweet like birthday cake, and it’s just as consuming as the first time they did this. He wants to let go, lose himself in the way her mouth moves against his, but all his mind does is remind him of his back against the wooden floor of the tree house, his mind reaches back to her bedroom and the light catching red and gold trophies and _I don’t want this to come between us_.

So he pulls away from her, hands on her shoulders, and there she is: spit slick lips, half closed eyes that open fully to look up at him. They glow from the fire and they’ve been here all these nights, but this is the one that matters, isn’t it? This is the night that changes everything. “Jyn--”

“It’s okay,” she says softly, and she moves closer. She wraps her arms around his neck and presses a kiss next to his mouth, right against his beard, and pulls back enough that her gaze can meet his, even if he feels like he’s a little cross eyed. Her eyes flick back down to his lips and he hates that he doesn't know whether or not to believe her. Maybe this is where he has to put his faith in her, to take that step forward without knowing whether she'll be there for him on the other side. His body wants to believe her, catching just that small impression of her lips against his, he feels like he's being drawn back in.

“It’s okay,” she says again, and this time Cassian bends his head down to meet hers, to kiss her the way he told himself he couldn’t. It’s like this: the whole rooms slows into something that moves heavily, something that beats away the distance between them. There’s the way their lips move against each other, there’s the way her mouth opens and he feels like he can’t get any closer. They’re both breathing heavily, and the room grows both darker and lighter at the same time. Cassian doesn’t know, his eyes are squeezed shut and he makes a low sound that causes Jyn to let go of where she was clutching the hair at the nape of his neck and move to the hem of his sweater.

There’s his soundless gasp at the feel of her touch against the bare skin of his stomach. Her hands move around to his back and settle at his waist, her fingernails digging into his skin. He breaks away from the kiss with a sharp sound, but then he bites her bottom lip and moves towards her until her back settles onto the couch and he’s on top of her.

And this is--this is dangerous. He knows that they can’t go much further--his parents and Casey are upstairs, but he feels lost as she drags him in, kiss after kiss, and her whole body is beneath him. He could almost stay here, blur out the world, and cover her completely. He could stay here, with the feel of her hands on him and the soft sounds at the back of her throat, and still cover her completely.

It’s too much and not enough at the same time. They break apart slowly, but Cassian doesn’t move. He bends his neck down to rest his forehead against her shoulder, and maybe he’s covering himself completely. His eyes are closed and the world is dark and Jyn strokes the back of his head, combing her hand through his hair over and over again for a long time.

It’s when he catches himself drifting into sleep that he finally sits up. His eyes blink tiredly, adjusting to the light, and how strange is it that it seems so much brighter now? How the room once felt completely dark but is now perfectly clear. Jyn sits up as well, and she looks to be feeling exactly how he does.

Her hand moves over and squeezes his knee once, and she looks at him and says, “We should probably go to bed.”

He hums. “I’ll miss you.”

And it’s funny, because it’s not the first time he’s said it, but it means something else now, doesn’t it? It’s not that he’s only going to miss her tonight, the way her body fits against his and the softness of her lips, but it’s everything--this whole weekend--it’s been a dream, hasn’t it? It’s been a dream and tomorrow it’s over.  

“Come on,” she says, and takes his hand before getting up off the couch.

He follows her up the stairs, such a usual occurrence by now, and they stand across from each other at their doors. His heart beats something sad into his blood as he watches her in the dark, as he watches how the light still can never quite reach her all the way here.

“Last time,” he says, and his voice says enough for him.

Jyn nods and comes closer, putting her hands on his chest and leaning up to chase one last kiss. Cassian closes his eyes against it, standing in a dark hallway and kissing Jyn. It feels like a promise.

“Goodnight, Cass.”

“Goodnight Jyn.”

\--

He settles into the blue black of his room with a burden chipping away at his thoughts. He tries to push them aside, burying himself under the weight of his duvet, but he feels cold without Jyn next to him.

He feels cold all over, actually. He thinks back to laying down across from the warm fire, her warm kisses and their warm bodies, and he feels a pang of longing, of fear that this was a once and done thing.

But at the same time he feels hope. He pulls his duvet up over his shoulder and thinks about her words. _It's okay,_ she'd said, and she was the one to start it all, to kiss him--sober, with clear eyes knowing exactly what they were doing. How could he not read into it? How could he not pull it into the light and try to define the shape of it?

How could she kiss him if she didn't mean it?

He can't be the one to ask, though. He realizes this as his eyes stare at his ceiling, watching stray light sit paralyzed in one place. Jyn's rejected him before, she knows where he stands, so if their relationship is going to move forward it has to be on her terms.

Cassian shuts his eyes, trying to shut out the thoughts. Instead he thinks about birthday cakes, red letters spelling out _Happy Birthday_ , and the backyard sitting under shadows. He forces himself to fall asleep.

\--

Cassian has to drag himself out of bed the next morning. He and Jyn need to get a head start home since she has work and he has a ton of homework to catch up on. The whole house smells delicious, though, as he emerges from his room. It’s sweet and warm and it wakes him up. He drops his duffel bag by the front door and wanders down the hall--fingers tracing idle patterns against the wall--and into the kitchen.

His eyes seek out Jyn’s first, and he hadn’t even really thought about kissing her last night until right now. His whole stomach drops underneath him, but she grins at him easily. She’s sitting at the table next to Casey, a plate of waffles in front of her, and her eyes squint into half circles, like she’s so happy she can’t help it.

He stands there for a stupidly long time smiling back before Mom notices him and asks, “Do you want breakfast?”

He looks over at her. She’s standing over the waffle iron on the counter, a big bowl of milky yellow waffle mix next to it.

“Yeah,” he says, and takes a seat at the table. “Thank you.”

Breakfast goes by too quickly. Cassian eats two waffles, glancing up every now and then to catch Jyn’s eye. It’s definitely different already. That knowing look comes back, the one she’s given him since the beginning, and he thinks he finally understands it. He thinks he can finally guess what it means...

\--

The goodbyes are hard and they take a long time. Casey openly lets a few tears slip out and Mom tries to hide it, but they offer long hugs and Cassian promises them that he’ll be back soon. There’s only two weeks left to the semester, anyway.

But still, they seem to be more upset about losing Jyn. Even his father’s expression is downcast as he gives Jyn a hug goodbye. In only these past few days she’s integrated herself so well into his family, she found a place to fit and now none of them want to let her go. Cassian knows that he can only hope that there’ll be more of these instances in the future.

He’s starting to think that maybe hope isn’t such a bad thing.

\--

“Your mom gave me her phone number,” Jyn says as they drive down the street. Cassian glances up at the rearview window, just to catch one last look at his house. “But I think it’s because she’s worried that you won’t tell her if you catch another cold.”

Cassian half laughs. “Or she wants to be friends with you.”

He looks over to see Jyn smiling to herself, but she doesn’t say anything else. He’s kind of waiting for her to bring up last night, but then he thinks that maybe neither of them want to bring it up, or maybe they’re both just too tired right now. Maybe nothing needs to be said at the moment. The highway crawls along and along and it’s all familiar but Cassian feels different. It’s the same feeling he had coming home to Whitebridge after they brought Leia to the hospital.

Either way, everything _is_ different.

But conversation picks up again as Jyn chatters idly about her coworkers and how her boss texted her and asked her to work tomorrow even though she always has Mondays off. Jyn agreed though, because she was technically supposed to work yesterday and Friday and she needs the money.

As they draw closer to home, she asks, “Would you like to go Christmas tree shopping with me this week? Kathy asked me to get one to decorate next weekend.”

“Yeah,” he says. “It just depends on which day you want to go.”

“How do you feel about Thursday?”

“I feel pretty good about it.”

“Good,” she says.

And they never end up talking about the kiss, but Cassian lays his hand out over the center console, palm facing up, and it takes a second before Jyn reaches over and laces their fingers together.

They hold hands the rest of the way home, and it feels right.


	9. Take Note

Cassian’s only half listening to Dr. Mothma asking discussion questions at the front of the classroom. They’re going over their reading assignment from Thanksgiving weekend but honestly, Cassian didn’t read it. He didn’t even pick the book up. He got home last night, found it on his desk, and left it to go sit with Bodhi in the living room. By the time they said goodnight Cassian was too tired to read, so he laid in bed and ran the memories of Thanksgiving through his mind until he fell asleep.

He still can’t believe any of it...

But it’s Monday morning and he’s in his Intro to Political Science class and he can’t focus. Because it’s Monday morning and it’s his birthday and it’s been two days since Jyn kissed him.

Yeah, he doesn’t believe it at all.

She’d texted him last night thanking him again for letting her come home with him, explaining how much she loves his family. She texted him again this morning, just a quick _happy birthday_ that he hasn’t gotten a chance to reply to yet.

He glances up at Dr. Mothma before his eyes fall back to his notebook in front of him. He’s working on a doodle of interlocking circles that trace up the edge of his page. There aren’t even any notes, just the date at the top and the way his pen drags up the paper.

And he should be paying attention, especially since he has no idea what they’re talking about and finals are next week, but his unfocused mind draws back to Saturday night, of Jyn’s voice saying, _It’s okay,_ and it’s like he doesn’t hear anything at all. He stares, unseeing, down at his notebook, images of the dark living room and Jyn’s skin glowing from the fire--the way her eyes tipped down to glance at his lips--all of it runs through his head again and again and again.

He shouldn’t be thinking about this...

The clock seems to be against him today, ticking away slowly as class drags on. It feels like an eternity before Dr. Mothma tells them to pack up, but then everyone gets up in a shuffle of books and backpacks and people checking their phones. Cassian takes his time, his next class isn’t for another forty minutes and he doesn’t like getting caught up in the rush, anyway.

His eyes drag along the muted blue gray carpet of the classroom as he meanders behind the person in front of him, catching the door and glancing back to see that he’s the last one out. When he refocuses on the hallway his gaze stops at the figure leaned against the wall opposite of him.

Jyn watches him with amusement clear on her features. Her arms are crossed and he can see under her coat she’s still wearing her blue apron from work.

“There he is,” she says. “I was starting to think you cut class on your birthday.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks, smiling, and he gives her a quick hug before pulling back to watch her grin tip over her whole face.

“I wanted to see you.”

“Here I am,” he says. “Are you on your break right now?”

She nods. “Yeah, I skipped out a little early but nobody will mind. We already have too many people working today and it’s super dead.”

“Well I’m glad you’re here. I have time, I can walk you back.”

“Perfect,” she says, and they head towards the stairs. This building is large and fairly new compared to the rest of campus, so the high ceilings loom over them, open and visible to each floor, and the wide windows let the cold, detached light fall over them. Jyn loops her arm through his, pulling herself closer to him, and asks, “So how does it feel to be twenty? I have to say, you may not be a baby anymore but I don’t know if I can stop calling you one.”

“That’s too bad,” he says. “I’m a full grown adult now, you’ll just have to adjust.”

She snorts. “Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean that you get to be rude.”

“I’m only speaking the truth, Jyn.”

“Well the truth sucks, baby,” she says, but _baby_ doesn’t come out like it usually does. It’s always something sharp or exaggerated, it’s always clear she’s making fun of him, but this one is soft and gentle. It’s a term of endearment.

“Fine, call me baby any time you want. Happy?”

“Always,” she says. “But you didn’t answer my question, how does it feel to be twenty?

He hums to himself, thinking about it. They cross the hall towards the front doors of the building, which are tall and made of glass, so Cassian catches a glimpse of the blue sky beyond it. It’s a cold blue, something empty and something quiet, and he holds the door open for her, trying to ignore the way the wind bites at his exposed skin.

He wishes he had his scarf or his gloves, but they might still be in his bag from the weekend. He wasn’t thinking too clearly this morning, between calling his mom and having to sit down to eat the special birthday breakfast that Bodhi made him, time wasn’t on his side. Still, he frowns at the cold, at its harshness and the way it makes his hands feel stiff.

He reaches out to take one of Jyn’s in his and says, “I feel more mature, definitely. Wiser, as though I need a youth to advise and bestow my newly found wisdom on. And, obviously, I think I’ve gotten more handsome with age, wouldn’t you agree?”

She splutters out a laugh, and she gives him an appraising look. “You’ve gotten something, all right.”

“Fine, don’t admit it, but I know you’re thinking it,” he says, and smiles down at her. Her head tips up to meet his gaze, open and bright and it definitely feels different than before. This definitely might be something that sticks.

Or, at least, he hopes this is something that sticks.

Campus is busy at this time of day, but in Whitebridge that doesn't really mean anything. They chatter while they trace their way along the sidewalk, past the greenhouse and the stop light that they passed that first night. It's strange to think about, but Cassian's mind doesn't go there as often as it used to. It was just a random first encounter, a single night that brought them together, and now everything that's happened in between.

What a way for them to meet...

“So what are your plans for the day, birthday boy?” she asks, her voice raised a little so he can hear her over the sound of traffic coming from the intersection ahead.

“Not much, actually,” he says. “I have to go over Baze’s to work on our project, it’s due next Monday but we’re almost done, so that’s good. Bodhi mentioned going out to dinner tonight. I don’t know where we’re going yet, but I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

She breathes out, long and steady. “I wish I could, but Kathy got back late last night and wants to spend some time together. I’d bail, but I haven’t seen her in over a week, so. I’m sorry, Cass.”

“I get it,” he says, swallowing a touch of disappointment. “At least I get to see you now.”

“That’s what I figured,” she says.  

They walk in quiet, and they’re almost at the drugstore now. “I spoke to my mom this morning,” he says. “She couldn’t stop talking about how much she liked you.”

He glances down to see Jyn smile to herself. “I like her too, and your whole family for that matter. I know I’ve probably said it a million times already, but thank you again for inviting me.”

“It was nothing,” he assures.

“No it wasn’t,” she says. “If you hadn’t asked me I would have been all alone. I would have spent Thanksgiving by myself and I would have gone back to work the next day. I honestly can’t thank you enough. You allowed me into your home and shared your family traditions with me. I still can’t really believe it.”

And Cassian understands that. Really, he does.

“Listen,” he says. “I just--I care about you, Jyn.”

“I know,” she says, and she stops walking where they’re behind the drugstore. The back door is only a couple feet away but Jyn pauses and looks up at him. “I care about you too.”

“And I wanted you there,” he says, and his heart picks up as he looks down at her, as he catches her eyes falling to his lips. He takes a step closer, putting his hand on her waist, and the cold fans their breath out between them, getting caught as the space becomes smaller and smaller.

“Is this still okay?” he asks, which is probably unimportant considering that when she nods their lips brush together.

And where their past kisses were frantic, consuming, this one is slower and softer. He pulls at her bottom lip until they part and their tongues brush together. He takes a step closer--he never feels like he’s close enough--until her back presses against the brick wall of the building.

And where it was cold, where the world immersed them in a fit of winter, it’s now warm and full. Her arms wrap around him and his hands touch her jaw and neck, slender and alive. Her pulse beats away under his palms--their kiss is a match struck between them, the click and flash of a lighter, and it turns away the cold.

Cassian is as warm as can be.

But eventually she pulls back. “I have to go to work,” she says. “And you have to go to class.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, and takes a step away. He looks at her, drawn in by the weight of her gaze, and finds it hard to think about leaving her. “I don’t want to, but yeah.”

“Happy birthday,” she says, and kisses him once more on the lips. “We’re still on for Thursday, right?”

“Christmas tree shopping? Of course,” he says. “Just--how big of a tree do you want? I don’t know how much my car can handle.”

She laughs. “We’ll see. I’ll bring some rope in case we need to tie it to the roof.”

“Oh God,” he says. “Text me the address though, okay? I can probably leave around four.”

“Sounds good.”

He goes to take a step back but leans forward and kisses her again, trying not to get lost in it, but it’s always hard to with her.

Neither of them move for a long moment, just watching each other, just trying to see who will step away first. Though Cassian hates the idea of it, he hates watching her leave even more, so he lifts a hand to wave goodbye, and heads back the way they came, letting the cold come back to stay.

\--

The ride to Baze's house never takes long, but it's always enjoyable.

Today Baze hums along to the radio, and the streets are empty but the bare trees make it seem fuller somehow. It's funny, in a way, how his life can feel so different one day, and then return to normal the next.

Baze reaches forward to turn the radio down. "I was thinking that we should add a graph to our slide on Consumer Confidence Reports."

"Yeah," Cassian answers absently. Their powerpoint is mostly put together, they're just going to add the final touches today and practice since they have to present next Monday. Thinking about this class ending is a relief, but at the same time he'll miss this time with Baze. He'll miss this drive and the way the streetlights turn on even though it isn't quite dark yet--the cold light against the faded winter sky.

He pulls up to the house, his always drawn to the ivy that crawls up the side of it, and there's that blue door again, that blue surrounded by cedar shakes and empty planters, and the feeling he's come to associate with Mondays.

Cassian follows a step behind Baze up the walk and through that same door, not thinking much of it until the living room lights ignite and he's hit with a small chorus of, "Surprise!"

The room is full of his friends--Bodhi and Jyn and Chirrut stand at the front of the crowd, but he spies Han and Leia off to the side, and others he recognizes from his classes.

Jyn comes forward first, pulling him into a hug, and time itself seems to slow down as his eyes trace over each detail of the room, from his smiling friends to the silver and blue balloons brushing the ceiling, and there are those same red letters hanging on the wall.

_Happy Birthday._

"I should've known," he says, pulling himself away from Jyn. He feels strangely emotional about it but pushes the feeling aside, matching her grin.

“Yes, you should’ve,” she says, laughing. She looks up at him with a mischievous smile. “I thought it was blatantly obvious.”

“You were supposed to be with your aunt!”

“As if I would miss the opportunity to surprise you,” she says. “Honestly, it’s like you don’t know me at all.”

She shakes her head, but she’s still grinning, and she takes a step back in order for everyone else to get a chance to say happy birthday.

“So I guess dinner is off the table?” he asks Bodhi after they hug, who scrunches his nose in a smile.

“I mean, if you still want to,” Bodhi suggests. “But yeah, I was in charge of distracting you. I had my doubts that we could pull it off but it was so worth it. Your face was priceless.”

Cassian rolls his eyes. “Glad to know I can be a little amusing.”

“Never, but you came pretty close tonight. Happy birthday, man.”

Cassian feels a little uncomfortable with all the attention on him, but he works his way through the small crowd, saying hi and receiving hugs, and it’s nice in a way that he obviously didn’t expect. Sure, he knows he has friends here and sure, he’s called this place home, but he’s always felt like an outsider. Like he’s just on the fringe of this tight community, asking for a place where he could be let in.

But looking around at everyone, at the comfort and ease in which they settle into the party, into something steady, and the way that they smile at him and the way they hug him or pat him on the shoulder or tease him about getting older--it makes him feel included in a way that he doesn’t think he could’ve asked for.

And yeah, he’s feeling entirely too emotional about it. What can he say? Birthdays always bring out that side of him.

He ends up on the couch with Luke, who retells the story of his accident, dramatic but lively and Cassian nods along.

“I don’t even remember Han pulling me out,” he says. “I must’ve been unconscious. It was like, one minute I was just walking back to the lake and the next I woke up in a hospital. I still don’t know if I believe it, I feel like that’s what happens to people who are abducted by aliens.”

And Cassian laughs aloud. “I mean, it’s not impossible, but Han _was_ there.”

“True. But then you drove Leia all the way to Maine for me,” Luke says, and his grin tampers down into something more serious. “That was really cool of you, man.”

“What was really cool of who, now?” Jyn asks, joining them on the couch. She sits down as close to Cassian as possible, they’re all pressed together on their sides, and drapes a leg over his.

Luke looks at it immediately, but Cassian isn’t uncomfortable. He likes it, this more open side of Jyn, and he rests his hand on her knee, saying to her, “We were talking about when we drove up to Maine to see him.”

“Oh yeah, that was awful,” Jyn says. “How did you even fall in?”

“I don’t know,” Luke says honestly, shaking his head to himself, and one side of his lips lift in an attempted smile. “I was just telling Cass that I don’t remember anything between going back for our gear and waking up in the hospital.”

Jyn watches him blank faced for a moment and then rolls her eyes. “You owe Han Solo your life, you know that, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good,” she says. “And how are you, birthday boy? Is this party everything you imagined it would be?”

Cassian laughs. “Considering the fact that I never imagined it happening in the first place, I’d say so, yeah.”

“It’s nice,” she says, tipping her head forward to rest on his shoulder. He smooths his thumb against where it’s resting on her leg, and she says, “These people really care about you.”

“Yeah?”

He can feel her nod. “Yeah, and they should. You’re a part of this community now.”

“Thank you,” he says, even though it isn’t something he’s sure he should thank her for. His eyes scan the room, taking in the way Lando changes the music, or how Chirrut and Baze look casual, but he knows Baze is keeping an eye out to make sure no one touches any of his figurines. Gold light seeps in through the curtains and over their faces, and there’s Bodhi cracking up--Cassian can hear his laugh from here--talking to Luke, who’s joined him on the other side of the room.

“It is nice,” he agrees, and he turns his head to look at her. Her face tilts up towards his, and he bends his neck down to press a quick kiss on her lips.

She doesn’t look uncomfortable but she pulls back immediately. Her eyes move over to the room behind him, visibly relaxing for a moment before she asks, “You know what would make this party better?”

“What?”

“Cake,” she says with a grin, and gets up off the couch. She holds him by the wrist, trying to pull him up as well. “It’s in the kitchen.”

He allows her to drag him along, following a half step behind her as they move through the small crowd of people. Cassian glances at the words _Happy Birthday_ again, feeling something twist in his stomach, but then Jyn’s hand finds his and she pulls him into the kitchen with her.

Which is where she stops short. Cassian actually bumps into her, steadying himself with a hand on her waist. “What--” he begins to ask, but then he lifts his gaze to see what stopped her.

Han and Leia are in the kitchen.

That should be something usual, that should be something completely, absolutely normal, but Cassian watches as Han crowds Leia in against the counter, his hand rests on the smooth marble finish, and his head bends down towards hers. They’re talking but their voices are too quiet to hear. It’s too intimate, this isn’t something they should be watching, but it’s hard for Cassian to drag his eyes away from the way their bodies draw closer, the way their gravity pulls at each other.

He tugs at Jyn’s arm in an attempt to back out of the kitchen without being heard, but Jyn frowns and clears her throat pointedly.

The two break apart--like time had slowed down and instead of returning to normal it’s picked up speed. Leia doesn’t even look at them at first, her eyes are wide and stay on Han, who covers his chin with his hand and looks over at them.

He seems to take a deep breath, but he looks shaken up, and finally Leia drags her eyes away from him and over to them as well. “We were...” she starts but it doesn’t go anywhere. It’s both unusual and uncomfortable, and as much as Cassian wants Leia and Han to be together, he doesn’t want to witness it like this, in the kitchen, where nothing’s really happened yet.

Or has it?

“I was just...” Han starts, but he looks just as helpless. “I’m gonna--I’ll see you around.”

He says it mostly to Leia, but meets Cassian’s eyes as he skirts past him and back into the living room that goes on without knowing what’s happening in the kitchen.

Jyn swoops in on Leia the second Han leaves, taking his spot next to her. “What was that?”

Her voice is a strange timbre, and Cassian’s confused because he can’t tell if she’s happy or upset. She’s always talked about them getting together, and how badly she wants them to own up to their feelings, but her brows draw down in an intensity that doesn’t speak of that desire.

As it is, Leia doesn’t answer at first. She turns her back to them, reaching up to the cabinet and pulling out three glasses. “Water?” she asks, and doesn’t wait for a response. Cassian feels helpless to watch her pull out a pitcher from the refrigerator and fill each glass to the top.

“Leia,” Jyn says, and Cassian draws further into the kitchen. “What was that?”

“What do you think, Jyn?” Leia responds, lifting the glass to her lips and watching Jyn with little expression.

“It looks like you and Han are finally being honest with each other.”

And Cassian doesn’t get it, because it feels like this conversation should be different. It’s cold and detached where it should be happy and warm, or at least something brighter and less heavy.  

“It’s not that simple,” Leia says. She glances at Cassian and then back to Jyn. “Can we just--let’s talk in the hall.”

Cassian watches the two of them move into the hall off of the kitchen, further away from the rest of the party and he supposes that makes sense. He follows them, and the three stand close to each other in the shadows of the party, Leia leaned back against one wall and Cassian and Jyn on the other.

“Han and I have been honest with each other,” Leia starts. “We have. We know how we feel and we’ve talked about it, but it’s scary, okay? It isn’t as easy when you’ve been friends with that person for a long time.”

“That’s a cop out,” Jyn says. “If anything, being good friends should make it easier to make that transition, because you know Han and you trust him.”

“But then how much worse would it be if it fell apart? What if--what if he hurt me, or I hurt him? We bicker all the time and that’s one of the things I love about our relationship, but you can’t tell me that would be healthy. We could lose our friendship entirely.”

“You’re already in danger of that,” Cassian says, feeling the weight of both of their gazes on him. “Right? If you both know what you want but you keep putting it off, one of you is going to get tired of waiting.”

“And,” Jyn adds, “you might miss out on one of the best things that could happen to you. Come on, Leia. What’s the harm of trying? You don’t have to make a big deal about it, if you try it out and you’re not feeling it, you can just go back to being friends, but at least then you’d know.”

“It’s not that easy, Jyn.”

“It can be, if you’re not being stubborn.”

“Oh I’m stubborn?” Leia says, her voice slightly incredulous. “You’re the one who’s been pushing me this whole time even though I don’t want to go there. You too, for that matter!”

She looks to Cassian, but it’s Jyn who says, “That’s because it’s obvious, Leia. We’re just trying to help.”

“You want to talk about obvious?”

Jyn shakes her head. “No, I really don’t. I want to talk about what happened in the kitchen.”

“It was nothing,”

“Sure.”

“Well, actually, it probably would’ve been something if you and Cass didn’t show up. So, thanks for that.”

“I don’t get it, Leia.”

“Please,” she says. “You always know exactly what you’re doing.”

“It’s not like that.”

“What is it like, then?”

Jyn looks down at the floor, pressing her lips together. Cassian feels wildly out of place, like this is a conversation that’s started before tonight and he’s intruding. If he’s honest, he doesn’t really know what they’re talking about, and his eyes glance back towards the kitchen. Finally he has to say, “I should probably get back to the party.”

“Yeah,” Jyn says. “Yeah, we’ll be out in a minute.”

Leia nods but doesn’t say anything to him. He feels weird about leaving them, knowing that this argument isn’t meant for him to be a part of, but at the same time he wishes they weren’t arguing in the first place.

He doesn’t even make it back to the kitchen before their voices pick up again, and he can hear Leia, plain as day, ask, “So you think now, just because you’re dating Cassian, that you know everything about relationships?”

And Cassian, knowing that nothing good ever comes from eavesdropping, can’t quite make himself step out of the kitchen and join the rest of the party.

“I’m not dating Cassian,” Jyn answers flatly.

Which, yeah, is technically true.

He hears Leia let out a sigh, the sound carries into the kitchen, and he feels guilty for listening but not enough to stop. “Please don’t lie to me, Jyn.”

“I’m not lying,” she defends, “and this isn’t about me so can we drop it?”

“No, because it doesn’t make sense. How can you tell me do something about Han when you won’t do anything about Cass?”

“Maybe because I don’t like Cass the way you like Han?”

“Come on Jyn, we always tell each other the truth, even if it’s to say that it’s something we can’t talk about. So tell me that this is something you can’t talk about, or own up to the fact that you like him, because I’m not buying anything else.”

“It’s not like that!” Jyn nearly shouts. Her voice is hard and it hits something in Cassian that he can’t identify, just feels. “I haven’t known him for as long as you’ve known Han, and he’s just been fun to hang out with because everyone else in this town sucks. It’s not like I’m even attracted to him. He’s just--there. I’m telling you, there’s nothing between us.”

“Then what the hell are you two doing?” Leia asks. “Because it never looks like nothing.”

“We’re friends,” Jyn says, her voice monotoned and cold.

There’s a long, long pause, and Cassian can feel an ache creeping up the back of his neck, settling in at the base of his skull.

“Something’s wrong with you,” Leia finally says, her voice withdrawn. “If you see the way he looks at you, the way he touches you or talks about you, and can still stand there and say that there’s nothing there. Tell me I’m delusional about Han all day long, but just know that it makes you a hypocrite.”

“Whatever,” Jyn says. “You’re just trying to blame me for nothing when we should be talking about you.”

And if Leia says anything to that, Cassian doesn’t hear it. He finds his glass on the counter, not hearing anything at all, really. It’s as if the kitchen has enveloped itself and transformed into something else. It’s twisted up entirely and has Cassian confused as he holds the glass in one hand and grasps the counter firmly with the other.

 _There’s nothing between us_.

That--that doesn’t make any sense. How could there not be anything between them when she kisses him and holds his hand and says such sweet things to him? How could that be nothing to her when it’s everything to him?

“Are you okay, man?” he hears someone ask, and Cassian blinks up to see Bodhi next to him. It takes him a second to realize that Bodhi has a hand on his shoulder, and he’s slow to nod but he does it anyway.

“Yeah, fine,” he says, not risking a glance at the hallway behind him even though every impulse he has begs him to. “Sorry, I zoned out, I must be tired.”

Bodhi watches him for a long second, and it gives Cassian time to study his expression. It gives him time to take in the way his brows draw towards each other, the way his eyes stay open in curiosity, and he takes a short breath before saying, “All right, well, people were starting to wonder if you ditched your own party.”

Cassian tries to laugh but it sounds forced even to himself. “Well I probably should, actually. I have a ton of homework to do tonight.”

Bodhi frowns. “No one should have to do homework on their birthday, that’s like, against the rules.”

“What can you do?” he asks. “Hey--did you walk here tonight?”

“I was at the Skywalker’s and got a ride with their dad.”

“Ah. Well let me know when you want to get going, I’m assuming I’m driving you home.”

“Whenever you’re ready, pal,” he says. “It’s your party.”

And Cassian breathes out a laugh but it isn’t happy. “Yeah, it is.”

Bodhi places his hand back on Cassian’s shoulder, squinting for a second before asking, “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

“Never been better,” he assures with a small laugh to himself. “Except for, you know, that ghost I just saw in the backyard. It really freaked me out.”

“Hilarious,” Bodhi says flatly, but then he does laugh and shake his head. “Come on, your people are waiting.”

\--

In the end, they don’t stay for much longer.

For one, it’s a Monday night and they aren’t serving alcohol, so the crowd thins earlier than it would on a weekend. Cassian receives more hugs and birthday wishes and says goodbye, and it’s nice, it is.

But for another, Cassian feels completely distracted. He half listens to conversations and stories and he stays by Bodhi’s side even though Bodhi keeps sending him worried looks. It’s like the entire party exists around him and Cassian’s only half there, half aware of what’s happening beyond the way his thoughts race through his head.

Because Jyn must’ve been lying to Leia, that’s the only way he can really make sense of what she said. He knows, deep down, that Jyn doesn’t feel that indifferent towards him, but still, knowing that and hearing otherwise doesn’t bode well for his thoughts.

It’s when he and Bodhi are getting ready to leave that he realizes that Jyn and Leia never came back. He briefly considers leaving anyway, but the idea doesn’t sit well with him. He traces his way back into the kitchen and towards the hall, and he can hear their voices before he sees them: arms crossed over each other and leaning on opposite sides of the wall.

They both look upset, and maybe he would find it more amusing if he didn’t know that he was a main point of their argument.

“I was just about to leave,” he says quietly. “And I didn’t want to go without saying goodbye.”

Leia’s expression softens into a smile, and she uncrosses her arms, coming over to him to give him a hug.

“Bye Cass,” she says. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, pulling back. His eyes automatically find Jyn, who’s standing across from him and watching him carefully. He doesn’t feel like he can breathe, looking at her like this and knowing what she’d said about him.

 _She didn’t mean it_ , he tells himself, but it doesn’t change anything.

She lifts one corner of her lips and asks in a quiet voice, “Do you have an extra minute? I didn’t get to give you your present.”

“Um, yeah,” he says, suddenly unsure of how to act around her.

“Come on,” she says, and she walks past Leia with a cold look before leading him into the kitchen where her bag sits on one of the chairs at the table. Her hand shuffles through it, pulling out a yellow cardboard envelope and handing it to him.

“What’s this?” he asks even as he opens it. Jyn doesn’t say anything, but the flap pulls out and he reaches his hand inside, pulling out a small stack of glossy photos. He breathes out a small laugh at the first one. It’s of him in his white t-shirt, a little blurry and faded in shades of purple. He’s grinning--he looks drunk--and there’s murky shadows of plants surrounding him.

They were just strangers...

He flips through the photos of the plants quickly. They have the same effect: blurry and purple and too bright in some spots. They look unlike anything Cassian’s ever seen before and it hits him in the chest. He thinks that maybe if she gave them to him earlier in the day they’d make him happier, but as it is, they sink like a weight and pull him down, down, down.

He makes an involuntary noise when he comes to the last one in the pile. It sounds something like a laugh but he has to blink back the emotion that comes with it, his eyes feeling sharp and unsteady. The picture is of the two of them, their faces pressed together in the lower right hand corner. Their chins are cut off and Cassian’s eyes are closed, but there’s Jyn with her ladybug headband on, their teeth shiny from the flash, and his hand gripping her shoulder.

They were _strangers._

“Wow,” he says to himself, blinking up at Jyn who watches him with a detached kind of smile. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” she says softly. “That was a good night.”

“It was,” he says, and he takes a deep breath, his eyes moving down to look at the photos again. “Didn’t we take one after this?” he asks, stopping at the picture of the two of them.

She shakes her head. “There was. I took one of you but it wasn’t good, I figured you wouldn’t want it.”

That’s weird. He doesn’t understand why she would include twelve pictures of plants but not one of him. “Why?”

“I told you,” she says. “It wasn’t good.”

“Well what was wrong with it?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t like it,” she says, and she frowns.

“Okay,” he says flatly, and he watches her for a moment, feeling oddly distant. It’s something he’s never felt with her before.

“Are you mad at me?” she asks squinting up at him.

And if Cassian was honest with himself, if he was truly honest with her, he would say _I don’t know_ , but instead he shakes his head, swallowing heavily, and says, “No, I just feel weird right now.”

“Yeah,” she says distantly. “I get that.”

“Thank you for this,” he says, holding up the pictures before slipping them back inside the envelope. “For all of this, actually.”

She smiles at him but it isn’t happy, the whole mood of the room is off: it’s shifted into something slow and sad and Cassian doesn’t like it very much. Jyn leans up and kisses his cheek, lingering for a beat, a quick _one, two, three,_ and pulls back. “Happy birthday, Cass.”

“Bye,” he says, and heads towards the living room, where he catches the sight of Bodhi waiting by the door. He takes one last look over his shoulder and Jyn’s still there, still watching him, and Cassian, for all that he thought he finally figured her out, realizes he’s still just as in the dark as he’s ever been.

\--

It doesn’t necessarily _bother_ Cassian, but it stays on his mind for a while.

He doesn’t think about it on the ride home. He doesn’t think about it when he does his homework or goes to bed or even in class the next day.

He doesn’t think about it at all, except that he does.

Except that he can’t seem to pry his mind off of the subject, wondering why Jyn felt so compelled to say those things and whether or not she really meant them. His thoughts are a rush of Jyn kissing him, the words he overheard between her and Leia, and the photos that he recalls and flips through before setting them down again on his bureau. None of it adds up, none of it fits together and none of his theories apply.

To say that Jyn likes him isn’t even something he’s sure of anymore. He thinks of the dark living room, the _you’re my best friend_ , and the kisses that they exchanged easily. He thinks even further back to _this doesn’t have to mean anything_ and wonders if that suggestion ever changed.

How could it not mean anything?

Cassian’s tangled up in a mess of his own thoughts, scrambled up and thrown together, left out for him to sort through. He just doesn’t understand any of it. How can she say she doesn’t want to be in a relationship with him when she holds his hand and takes him on dates and kisses him? How can she say they aren’t dating when that’s what they’ve been doing this whole time?

And it’s true. He realizes it when he’s laying in bed, trying to fall asleep. He’s been laying here for a long time, but his mind won’t slow enough to let him rest. His mind picks up these thoughts and throws them at him, a way to say _wake up, look at this, none of it is right_.

So he’s covered up, watching the blinds soak up all the blue light, and realizes that ever since their first kiss, that very first kiss in the treehouse, everything that they’ve done has been beyond the point of friendship.

All of it.

\--

Tuesday and Wednesday pass slowly. Jyn texts him the address of the Christmas tree farm that’s about a twenty minute drive south from them. He saves it to his phone and texts her back a few times, nothing serious, just a little bit to make sure she knows he isn’t mad at her.

Because he isn’t, not really. There’s a difference between confusion and anger, and as time passes he finds himself less upset and more in need of answers.  

Naturally he’s feeling anxious as he waits in her driveway. How many times has he been here? How many times has he sat in this exact spot, kept his eyes on that same yellow door, and wondered how he’s supposed to feel?

It’s a little before four so the sun’s already starting to tip low in the sky. The front lights are on and he only has to wait a moment before the front door opens and Jyn crosses in front of the car--a sight that he’s used to but still somehow shakes him up.

“Hey,” she says once she opens the door and gets inside. She glances over at him before putting on her seatbelt--her expression is neutral but she seems to be gauging his reaction.

“Hey,” he answers, and offers a small smile as he backs down the drive. He looks over at her and asks, “Did you bring the rope?”

She laughs. “That sounds so shady. And no, so we might have to limit our options.”

“They probably have some there,” he says. “I don’t think we ever brought rope when my family and I got our trees in the past.”

“You usually get a live tree?” she asks.

“Have to,” he answers. “Fake trees are depressing.”

“They’re not so bad,” she defends. “I think it depends on how you decorate them.”

He hums to himself. “No amount of decoration will make it smell like a real tree.”

“So light a candle.”

“Someone’s defensive over fake Christmas trees,” he comments, glancing over at her. He expects a grin, or something lighter than what’s there. He’s met with a grim expression, and he tries to think of a way to recover. “Which is fine, you know. Everyone has their own taste.”

She lets out a long breath, and in his peripheral Cassian can see her adjust her coat under her seatbelt. She says, “Not always. I’ve had both in my life and I don’t think I prefer either one. I think it has to do with the memories associated with it.”  

“Like?”

She blows out another breath, adjusting her seatbelt again. Is she okay? Cassian can’t tell without really looking at her.

“Forget I brought it up,” she says. “Real trees probably are superior, I don’t know why I tried to argue against it.”

He glances over at her once, then twice. He has to take these quick little looks in order to keep his eyes on the road, but he frowns to himself. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says, but her voice is far away. Any chance he had of believing her is lost as they continue to drive in silence. The radio doesn’t get turned on, Jyn doesn't offer anything to say, and though Cassian tries to start a conversation a few times, it never goes anywhere.

Eventually he stops, just watching the road stretch out ahead of him, all blue light and dark shadows, and wonders what’s changed since Monday night.

\--

The lot of Christmas trees sits under bright floodlights. There’s a red wooden stand at the front with an old man behind it. He’s writing something down but he looks up at Jyn and Cassian when they arrive and offers them a smile.

The place is a crowd of families and couples wandering the aisles of trees, half shadow and half white light against the deepening blue sky. It’s a field of empty spaces and branches reaching out, brushing against Cassian’s coat as he walks alongside Jyn.

“So in all actuality,” he starts, his eyes moving over the row of trees in front of them. “Do you know what size you want to get?”

“No,” she answers, and her eyes stay on the trees. The light gets caught in her lashes, across her profile, and the way her lips part, but she never really turns towards him. “Just--nothing that would be too big for the space.”

“Did you measure where you’re going to put it?”

“Honestly? No,” she says, and she starts to go down a different row of trees. Cassian follows behind, watching her reach out both arms to run her hands along the pine needles.

“So what is the plan, here?” he asks. “Just eyeball it and hope for the best?”

She turns her head to look at him and shrugs. “I guess.”

Her lack of an expression and the way her voice sounds has him reaching for her hand automatically, stopping the both of them in the middle of the aisle. Her feet kick up the dirt path underneath them and she frowns. “Hey!”

“Come on, Jyn,” he says, hearing himself and hating the way he sounds. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean?” And now her eyes finally meet his, bold and undeterred from watching him openly. Undeterred from meeting his gaze and holding it, and she’s always been like this but he used to love it. Right now he feels a little sick.

“I mean, you’re acting weird and distant,” he says.

“So?”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, meaning: _something is wrong_. Meaning: _I don’t know why I expect you to answer the question._

And, as usual, she evades. “Nothing’s wrong,” she says, starting to walk again. Cassian follows alongside her, and even their steps are out of sync. “You’re just worrying about nothing.”

“It doesn’t feel like nothing.”

She sighs. “What do you want from me, Cassian?”

“The truth.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I--” he starts, unsure of where to go. He feels at a loss.

“Because what?” she asks. “It’s not like you’re my boyfriend.”

“I know I’m not,” he snaps.

“Then don’t act like you are.”

“You’re joking, right?” he asks, and he can hear how incredulous his voice is, he can hear the way is raises. Jyn gives him a blank look and he shakes his head. “I will when you do.”

He walks past her, unsure of the anger that sits in his chest, and from behind him he can hear Jyn ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He turns around. “It means that you literally treat me like I’m your boyfriend, and now you’re acting like it’s the most ridiculous idea in the world.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, not even a little apologetic. “I didn’t realize hanging out with you meant that we’re dating! Because that makes _so_ much sense.”

“I didn’t say we _were_ dating, I’m saying that it feels like you want to date me without actually committing to it.”

“Just leave it alone, okay? We talked about this, I thought things were cool between us.”

“They were, Jyn!” he exclaims. “I was perfectly content to let things go but then we’re holding hands and kissing, so you tell me: what am I supposed to think? Do you consider that platonic behavior?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Because we never called it anything other than friendship.”

“That doesn’t change what it is!”

“Why are you so upset?” she asks.

“Because I’m frustrated. Because I get these pieces of you, Jyn, but never the whole thing. I like you so much but sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you. You act one way but say something else and I don’t get it!”

“I just wanted a Christmas tree, I didn’t come here to get berated by you.”

“I’m not--” he blows out a breath in frustration. “I’m not trying to berate you. I just--why can’t you let me in? Why do I have to beg Bodhi to tell me what happened between you two? Why can’t you tell me about Saw, or about your father, or even why a fake tree is so important to you? I’ve told you everything about me and yet I’m always left guessing when it comes to you.”

The look on her face changes the second he mentions Saw’s name. It goes from a cold stare to straight up anger. “That’s because I don’t want you to know!” she shouts. “I don’t want anyone to know! My life is my business and you don’t get any of it, okay? You can tell me everything about your life or your mom or whatever the hell you want, but that doesn’t mean I owe you anything! It’s not like me telling you my life story is going to make me love you.”

“I’ve never asked for you to love me,” he says coldly.

“Oh please, it’s all you’ve wanted this whole time. Admit it: you’ve never seen me as just a friend!”

“No, I haven’t. I like you, Jyn. I told you how I felt, but if you honestly, genuinely do not feel the same way, then we can’t keep doing what we’re doing.”

She doesn’t say anything at first, they’re left watching each other and Jyn shakes her head slowly. “We’re just friends.”

“But that doesn’t make sense! How can you act the way you do and turn around and say that it doesn’t mean anything?”

“Because it doesn’t mean anything!”

“Then why did you kiss me?”

She presses her lips together, breaking eye contact to look away somewhere over her shoulder. The floodlights keep getting brighter around her, the floodlights keep touching her all over and this isn’t how it was supposed to go, is it? This isn’t the way this should play out. Jyn clears her throat and looks at him, determined. In a quiet voice she says, “You know why.”

“I really don’t,” he says, lowering his voice as well. “So please, tell me.”

Jyn watches him coldly, and Cassian’s world stops with these words: “I felt sorry for you, okay? You told me your little sob story about how your birth mother doesn’t love you when you literally have the perfect family and the perfect life. I felt sorry for you, and I kissed you because I wanted to make you feel better, alright? Does that answer your question?”

He can’t _breathe_. He’s looking at Jyn and then he’s looking at the ground, hearing her words but feeling like he’s not taking them in all the way. She can’t mean that...

“You don’t mean that,” he says, looking up at her and meeting her gaze.

She watches him, unwavering. “I really do.”

He presses his lips together, looking around them. Funny how they can be having such a devastating argument when the world continues on as normal for everyone else. Funny how the Christmas trees still surround them, the lights still pour over them, but Cassian feels like he’s just lost something very, very important to him.

“Okay,” he says, and nods once, no longer watching her. “Let’s go.”

“What?” she asks.

“I want to go home but I’m not going to leave you here,” he says. “So let’s go.”

“What about a tree?”

Finally he looks at her, and where she was emotionless and determined, her expression has softened into something panicked, all wide eyes and brows drawn together. What did she expect? Cassian shakes his head, taking a step back towards the parking lot, and he can feel how cold his voice is when he asks, “What about it?”

Jyn doesn’t say anything to that, she just walks a half step behind him, enough that he feels like he’s by himself. They navigate their way through the lot, through all the people who are happy and smiling and figuring out how to take their tree home to decorate, and Cassian feels completely empty.

Or worse than empty. His stomach churns sickly and his hands are shaking, his whole body feels like it’s threatening to fall apart but he doesn’t feel like he’s inside of it at all. It’s like he’s somewhere outside himself, watching himself fall apart, and Jyn walks quietly beside him.

“Cassian,” she says when they get in the car, and she’s facing him but he can’t really look at her, so he shakes his head.

“I don’t want to talk right now,” he says, and backs out of the parking lot. The streets are dusky and quiet and feel emptier than his body. Cassian focuses on the road and not much else, refusing to let himself think about it.

The streetlamps are on and the sky deepens into a dark blue. Red brakelights strike the front of the car and it’s simultaneously the longest and shortest twenty minutes of Cassian’s life. The mountains loom darkly above them, and the road disappears beneath them, white line after white line. The silence stretches on and on and none of it feels real.

They’ve been here before, but right now Cassian doesn’t want to be here at all.

The same thought strikes him when he pulls into Jyn’s driveway, locking his eyes on the yellow door.

“Cass,” she tries again, and this time he looks over at her. She’s watching him with a broken expression, and her voice sounds shaky when she says, “I didn’t mean it. About your mom, I--I didn’t mean it.”

He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Can we talk about it?” she asks.

“Not right now,” he says, and lets his gaze fall to his lap. “I don’t think we should talk at all for right now.”

She shakes her head but doesn’t say anything at first. She watches him and turns her head away, wiping a hand under her eye. “But soon?” she questions.

“I don’t know, Jyn,” he says, feeling a touch of that anger come back. “Right now I don’t want to talk to you ever again so just leave it, okay? Just--stop.”

He’s not looking at her when he hears the sound of the car door opening, and she doesn’t move at first, letting all the cold air rush in, letting all the heat rush out. In a quiet voice she says again, “I didn’t mean it.”

He lifts his gaze to see her blinking in and out of the headlights before hurrying up the front walk and behind that yellow door. It shuts with enough force that Cassian can hear it inside the car, he can feel it, like it’s shutting out this past month of his life. Where it began with bright lights and laughter against a silent night, it ends with the dark and a sharp, violent sound.

Cassian backs out of the driveway carefully, forcing himself to focus on the street and the stop sign and not anything else. He keeps his mind blank, whether purposefully or not, and it helps him stay present, it helps him stay here, inside the car, where he can try and let go.

He pulls into their driveway, letting out a shaky breath as he turns off the ignition. The bright yellow light next to the front door reaches out and ghosts over his windshield, stretching up and touching Cassian’s hands that grip the steering wheel even after he’s put the car in park.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, but finally he gathers the energy to get up and go inside, nearly dragging himself up the stairs. He shuts the apartment door quietly behind him, murmuring a quiet hello to K2, who watches him from his perch on the couch.

He’s halfway down the hall before Bodhi emerges from his room, lingering in his doorway as he says,  “Hey Cass?”

And Cassian looks up at him. “Yeah?”

“I know you just got home, but I wondering if I could get a ride?”

Cassian glances at his bedroom. His body is telling him to just lay down, go to sleep, and forget that any of this happened, but at the same time he feels such a pressing need to act as though everything is normal that he finds himself nodding.

Bodhi gives him an odd look but grabs his things and heads to the door. Cassian follows behind him the whole way down the stairs, taking it slowly and not even really thinking about it.

It’s when he’s backing down the drive that Bodhi asks, “You’re not even going to ask where we’re going?”

“Oh, right,” he says with a short laugh. “Yeah, that would probably help.”

“Probably,” Bodhi says, and Cassian can feel him watching him but can’t meet his gaze. “I promised Brianna that I’d meet her to study for our history final. Have you been to her house before or will you need my excellent guidance skills?”

“I’ll need some directions,” Cassian says, and it takes Bodhi just a second to look up her address. They don’t talk other than his voice telling him to turn right or left or continue straight through the stop sign. It’s completely silent. Even the roads are quiet and Cassian is thankful for it. He can’t muster up the energy to talk--about Jyn or about anything else. He just wants it to go away.

“Are you alright?” Bodhi asks when they arrive at Brianna’s house. He puts his hand on the door handle and looks at Cassian with his brows drawn together.

Cassian just shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

And he knows Bodhi doesn’t believe him, but luckily he doesn’t push it. He just watches Cassian for a long moment before saying, “Thanks for driving me, I’ll see if I can get a ride home.”

“Okay, see you,” Cassian says, and watches him walk up to the front door. Bodhi glances behind him at Cassian before it opens and he’s allowed in, and Cassian sits there, completely blank, for a moment longer before backing out of the drive.

The roads are dark and they keep getting darker. Cassian still feels like he can’t focus. He only has one hand on the wheel because the other is shaking. He tucks it into a fist but it doesn’t help, so he slides it under his thigh. All he can see is Jyn’s cold gaze and the words _I felt sorry for you._

And once he’s thought about those words, they keep coming. Iterations of how none of it meant anything tumble freely through his mind, like his thoughts could almost come alive, turn to him, and say: _you are something to be pitied_.

He pulls over onto the side of the road, putting the car in park before squeezing his eyes shut and running a frustrated hand through his hair. He can’t even sit in the car--this place Jyn once called home. He reaches over, fumbling through the glove compartment until his hand grasps a pack of cigarettes that he never meant to smoke.

The car door slams shut behind him--slams like the door to Jyn’s house--and this street is unfamiliar to him, but he can’t be sure about that. It’s dark. It’s absolutely, completely dark, and Cassian stumbles onto the grass on the other side of the car, half collapsing into himself. His gaze falls to his lap before lifting to the stretch of field beyond him, blank and desaturated because the moon isn’t out and the clouds block out large portions of the blackening sky.

He tries to steady his shaking hands into something that can light the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, but he can’t seem to make them move the right way. It takes him a minute but then there’s the click and flash of the lighter igniting, and suddenly it isn’t as dark.

 _Sorry Jyn,_  he thinks as the smoke blows all around him. It’s that same word over and over again: _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry_.

 _I felt sorry for you_.

He makes an audible sound at the thought, something pained and distant, and smokes until he can’t feel anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waaaaaaaah, I'm so sorry!!!


	10. There's Still a Hole in Your Heart

Cassian watches the snow fall and fall and fall.

It’s wet and heavy, and it drops in clumps that don’t stray far from one another, painting the lower half of the window in white. He watches it as it spins until it blurs together, until his hand itches from the heat of his tea, until all he sees is white and all he feels is an emptiness that borders on nothing at all.

Or rather, everything he feels is veiled by some sort of numbness--something acute but still there--and he doesn’t know how he got _here_ , exactly.

Here, where he watches the cars pass by in a rush of light, forming one hazy line that cuts through the white. A large part of him wishes it would just go away: the cold, the cold, and the snow. Where it’s soaked through his coat and his worn sneakers, this iciness that takes his energy and leaves him with shaking hands and this negativity that’s coiled itself in his stomach and made a place to stay--it’s suffocating.

It really is.

His lungs itch for a cigarette because he wants to warm himself up despite the hot cup of tea in front of him, but his phone rings, pulling him out of his dazed focus on the window. For a half second he worries that it’s Jyn, but Bodhi’s name comes up and Cassian only hesitates for a couple of rings before picking it up.

“Hey Bodhi,” he says, letting his eyes close for a moment. He takes a deep breath and opens them again, he’s still here.

“Hey man,” Bodhi says in return. “Where are you?”

“McDonald’s,” he answers, glancing around him at all the empty booths and tables. For a highway rest stop it’s completely deserted. The only other people he’s seen have headed straight to the restrooms or are standing behind the counter, their bored expressions lit up by colorful signs advertising combo deals on food that Cassian has no interest in eating.

He sips his tea, which is still too hot but feels good, while Bodhi says, “Gross. I was thinking we could order pizza tonight but I don’t know if you’d be interested now.”

Cassian half laughs into the receiver. “I’m just drinking tea, but I actually can’t tonight. I’m on my way home.”

“Home? Like to Wortham?”

“Yeah,” he answers, wincing to himself. “Just for the weekend.”

There’s a long pause, and then, “What, why?”

“I guess I just needed a break,” he says. “And I miss my family, so I thought it would be a good idea. Sorry I didn’t tell you, it was kind of a last minute decision.”

It really was, though. Just this morning he was sitting in his political science class, trying to listen as he doodled in the notebook in front of him, but mostly running the events of last night through his head over and over again. By the time he got home he couldn’t stomach the idea of spending the weekend in town--alone with his thoughts, alone with the memories, alone without Jyn--

“You were just there,” Bodhi says flatly.

“I know,” Cassian says, grasping for an explanation when there is none. Just, “I know.”

“Cassian,” Bodhi states, and his voice sounds serious enough that Cassian shifts where he’s sitting, clutching the styrofoam cup a little tighter. “You know you can tell me if something’s wrong.”

Cassian nods to himself, staring out the window and watching the cars that keep passing, one after another. He nods to himself and he sighs, holding the phone away from him before saying, “It’s not that simple.”

“How can it not be simple? It’s a yes or no question, and it seems to be pretty obvious what your answer is.”

“Because you’ll ask me what’s wrong,” Cassian explains, even though that’s an admission in and of itself. “And I really, really don’t want to talk about it.”

Bodhi sighs, and the sound slips over the faint hum of the rest stop. “That’s fair. Just--promise me you’ll talk about it when you feel ready? I don’t think it’s healthy to keep it to yourself.”

“Okay,” he says, and his voice goes soft around the word. “I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Sunday,” Bodhi confirms. “Bye Cass.”

“Bye Bodhi,” he says, and he hears himself make a small sound before he says, “And thank you. For everything.”

“Yeah,” he says absently. “Yeah, of course.”  

\--

Understandably, his mom is worried when she sees him.

He’s still kicking the snow off of his boots when she asks, “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Here, let me take your bag. Do you want a cup of tea?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” he assures, laughing to himself. “Just thought I’d stop home to see you guys.”

“Why?” she asks. “You were just here on Sunday.”

“Gee, good to see you too.”

“I don’t mean it like that, Cass,” she says softly. She touches her hand to his forearm and says, “I meant, I wasn’t expecting to see you again until Christmas break. I wouldn’t think you’d come home unless something was wrong.”

He sighs. “I’m just stressed about finals coming up. I thought it would be a good idea to study here instead.”

Mom doesn’t look like she believes him--Cassian wouldn’t believe himself, either, but she nods. “Okay. Just--let me ask you, would you tell me if something’s wrong?”

He knows what she’s getting at--he can see it in her eyes. It’s something like, _last time you said you were fine you ended up moving away_ , which he understands even if it doesn’t make him want to spill his guts.

He takes his bag back from her hands and says, “It’s okay, Mom, really. I just want to lay down for a little bit. I’m tired.”

“Okay,” she says, but Cassian’s already heading for the stairs. It feels cowardly, it feels a lot like running away, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He keeps his gaze on the floor and hurries into his room, unable to completely keep his mind from tracing back to those nights with Jyn--tiredly climbing these stairs and standing across the hall from her.

That last night--that kiss that felt like a promise of something good.

He’s been so stupid.

It’s been less than twenty four hours since he last saw her, but somehow Cassian thought that it wouldn’t affect him like this. It’s as if he thought that he had the ability to shut down these thoughts and cast away the memory of Jyn like she didn’t mean anything to him. Like she didn’t have the power to hurt him...

But no, he freely gave her permission, and last night he baited her until she spit those words at him: _I felt sorry for you_.

He shakes his head, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and--knowing how stupid it is--turns it off, discarding it onto his dresser. It sits next to the framed picture of him and his friends from graduation, smiling wide, and Cassian shakes his head again.

At least his bed is soft and the lights are low enough that when he closes his eyes it’s completely dark. He lets out a slow breath, smoothing his face against his pillow, and he tries to think about nothing at all.

His exhaustion finally falls over him.

\--

Dad doesn’t seem surprised to see him at dinner, so Cassian assumes that Mom already talked to him. They’re all quiet at first, even Casey looks at him warily, so Cassian keeps his eyes on his plate and eats even though he isn’t hungry.

“How was your birthday?” Mom asks, because right, everything fell apart shortly after that. He hasn’t talked to her since then.

“Fine,” he says, swallowing down the thought of Jyn and Leia fighting in the kitchen, the pictures from Halloween night, and the look on Jyn’s face as he left. He probably should’ve known then...

“Well what about your surprise party?” she pushes.

“You know about that?”

“Jyn may or may not have talked to me about it,” she explains. “She was so cute, wanting to make sure you’d like it.”

_It doesn’t mean anything--_

“Yeah, I was completely surprised,” he says, his fork smoothing the tomato sauce idly over his pasta. When he looks up Mom is watching him carefully. He smiles and says, “It was good.”

It isn’t until after dinner when he’s helping her load the dishwasher that they talk about it again. She hands him a pot from the stove and asks, “What happened?”

He freezes, feeling like he’s been caught. He tries to keep his voice casual when he asks, “What do you mean?”

“You’ve checked out,” she says, handing him a plate next. “It’s like you’re not even here. Are you really going to tell me it’s because of finals?”

“It’s--yeah,” he settles on, watching the disappointment cross over her features. He just--he doesn't want to talk about it, he doesn’t want to lay it out there, open for discussion, and admit how foolish he’s been. He doesn’t want to talk about how he got his hopes up when he shouldn’t have, or how Jyn saw the opportunity to hurt him and took it.

Most importantly, he wants to figure out how to move on on his own terms.

“So is this how it is, then?” Mom asks. “You move away and suddenly you can’t tell me what’s bothering you? Do you realize how worried I am?”

“It’s not like that,” he defends, and takes a deep breath. “It’s not like it was last year.”

She sighs. “Well you’re obviously smoking again, so you tell me what’s it like, Cassian.”

“It’s just,” he pauses. “I don’t know, Mom. I wasn’t lying, I am stressed about finals, and I have this presentation on Monday that I’ve been working on all semester that’s worth literally half my grade, and it’s just a lot. And--um. Jyn and I got in an argument last night, but it’s--it’s not a big deal. Honestly, it’s whatever. I just, um. I think it all caught up with me and I wanted to come home and deal with it here.”

Mom’s watching him, and she presses her lips together before she nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he questions, because he was expecting her to push.

“Yeah,” she says. “It’s okay. I guess I have to trust that you know yourself and what you need.”

“Right,” he says quietly, and somehow that makes him feel worse. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it’s not this. Mom hands him another dish and he wonders absently if he was hoping for another fight, if he was hoping for something to draw his attention away from last night or to confirm that it’s his fault after all.

He doesn’t _know_.

\--

Saturday goes by too fast.

Cassian spends most of the day hanging out with Casey. Her high energy is a good distraction, and between her stories and games, he finds that he doesn’t think about Jyn too much.

He also doesn’t think about studying, either.

On top of it all, he feels this pressure to act normal, to prove that he’s somehow unaffected by all that’s happening in his life, but he doesn’t have the energy to do so. He’s this flattened version of himself, saying things and doing things that he normally would, but in a way that he would consider defeated and pathetic if he wasn’t the one who didn’t feel real.

Mom keeps giving him these _looks_ , but he can’t decipher them and doesn’t feel any desire to, either. He’s starting to think that coming home had been a mistake, that it’s something that compounds the restless, out of control feeling that started Thursday night rather than alleviate it. There’s nothing that he can do and there’s nothing that he wants to do and what he _does_ is go through the motions and pretend that he isn’t unhappy.

But then Sunday morning comes and Cassian has to face the fact that he’s going back to Whitebridge. Sunday morning comes and he finally turns his phone back on, idly scrolling through the calls and texts that he’s missed.

And if he thought he could ignore Jyn’s name--well, he was wrong.

There are a few missed calls from her and several texts, ranging from, _hey can we talk?_ to _please call me, Cass_.

He closes his eyes for a moment before letting out a breath and pushing his phone into his back pocket. He grabs the rest of his things and heads downstairs, where his family waits to say goodbye to him.

It’s different than it was last time. Easier, but different. It’s when he’s on the front steps that Mom calls after him, “I hope you can make up with Jyn, I think she’s good for you.”

Cassian tries not to think that if she knew the whole story then Mom probably _wouldn’t_ think she’s good for him, but he nods anyway and says, “I’ll try.”

\--

The drive home goes by even faster.

Cassian speeds the entire time he’s on the highway, blinking the winter sun out of his eyes and shivering even as his tiny car blasts hot air through the vents. He has his elbow propped up against the window, running a restless hand through his hair as the other grips the steering wheel too tightly.

He doesn’t want to go to Whitebridge, he doesn’t want to go home, he just wants to be left alone until he can figure out what he’s doing.

It’s just him in the car. It’s just him in the car and he drives too fast. The dead, empty trees knock together wildly in the wind, and Cassian feels everything rush at him at once--the past few months and the months before that, too. From that stupid day he read his mother’s email to that blurry night he met Jyn.

Different heartbreak but still the same feeling, and huh. Isn’t there something about that...

\--

Cassian should’ve known better than to think Bodhi would leave it alone.

He’s just taking off his coat when Bodhi pops his head out of his bedroom. He emerges entirely by the time Cassian’s kicked off his snow covered boots, and he raises a brow as he watches him.

“Hey Cass,” he says, swaying a little where he’s standing. If it’s supposed to look casual he’s missed the mark entirely. As it is, Cassian moves past him and into the kitchen.

“Hi,” he answers, and gets to work filling the kettle with water. He still feels the cold under his skin, and his right hand aches from gripping the steering wheel, but tea is good. Tea is always the answer.

“How was home?” Bodhi asks, leaning against the other side of the counter, watching Cassian with concerned eyes.

“Fine. Like home, I guess.”

“And how are you...doing?”

Reaching into the cabinet to get a mug, Cassian pauses and glances over at Bodhi to give him an unimpressed look. Below him, K2 nudges his head against Cassian’s leg and Cassian bends down to give him a little scratch behind his ears.

“I know what you’re really asking,” he says, glancing up at Bodhi.

“Yeah, well...I think we should talk about it.”

Cassian sighs. “There’s not much to talk about.”

This time Bodhi gives him an unimpressed look.

“There isn’t,” Cassian insists. “It is what it is.”

“Obviously there’s more to it than that. Look, Cass, I’ve been worried about you.”

“Why is everyone so worried about me? Why can’t I go home without it being about some crisis in my life?”

“Oh come off it,” Bodhi says, coming around the counter to stand across from him. The kitchen seems smaller like this, with Bodhi’s features tightening with irritation. “People care about you, don’t act like it’s the worst thing in the world.”

Cassian feels himself deflate. “It’s not the worst thing in the world. It’s just--this isn’t something that anyone else can fix. I need to deal with it.”

“Except for Jyn, right?”

“What?”  

“Look, I went to see her. I figured if anyone knew what was going on it would be her.”

“What did she say?” he asks, even though his initial response is _you shouldn’t have_.

“Nothing,” Bodhi assures. “About you, at least. But she was acting just as weird and sad as you, so I figured something must have happened between you guys.”

Cassian can’t help it, he huffs out a bitter laugh. “Right. _Something_.”

“Come on, Cass. Talk to me.”

“You know what? You were right. After Halloween, you told me to be careful around her, and I didn’t listen.”

“Cassian--” Bodhi starts, but the kettle goes off and Cassian shakes his head, filling his old Batman mug before making his way out of the kitchen.

He’s at the edge of the hallway when he turns to look at Bodhi one more time, taking in his helpless expression and defeated shoulders. Cassian lifts one corner of his mouth in an attempted smile, and says, “Thank you for being such a good friend, Bodhi, but I’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Yeah,” Bodhi says quietly. “Yeah, I know it.”

Cassian gives him one more attempt at a smile before retreating to his room, setting his mug on his nightstand. He sits at the edge of his bed, letting his eyes stare unseeing at the carpet for a long time before he finally moves to drink his tea.

And that’s how Sunday goes.

\--

But where time rushed forward ceaselessly this weekend, it nearly comes to a dead stop Monday morning. The clock ticks and ticks and ticks but Cassian’s convinced it isn’t moving at all.

Only half of the lights are on in the classroom and it makes the entire space feel smaller. It casts shadows on the faces of the people around him, leaning back in their desks and boredly watching Dr. Mothma go over the notes for their final.

And shoot--Cassian knows he should be paying attention, he’s so unprepared it’s not even funny, but his mind keeps reminding him it’s only been a week since his birthday, since he walked Jyn back to work and kissed her against the back wall. It’s been a week, but here he is, finishing his doodle and wondering how to fix what happened between them.

Because some larger part of him realizes that he needs to mend their relationship, some larger part realizes that what happened Thursday night can't be where they leave things.

It's just not that easy...

There’s fifteen minutes left of class when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Cassian glances at Dr. Mothma, who’s busy writing out some bullet points on the whiteboard, before he checks it.

 **From: Baze Malbus  
** _Do you have a spare 10 minutes?_  
...  
_It's important_

Cassian glances up at the front of the classroom again, huffing out an amused breath before typing back a response.

 **To: Baze Malbus  
** _Yeah what's up?_

 **From: Baze Malbus  
** _My flash drive isn't working and I nee it for our presentation  
_ ...  
_I'd get a new one myself but have a meeting w a professor between classes  
_ ...  
_I'll pay you back_

Cassian frowns for a moment, working out what Baze is asking. Technically he has the time and it wouldn't be a big deal--but the closest place to buy a flash drive is the drugstore and the last thing Cassian wants to do is run into Jyn.

Except--it's Monday. She never works Mondays.

 **To: Baze Malbus  
** _Yeah I can get you a new one. Need anything else?_

 **From: Baze Malbus  
** _Thanks man.  
_ ...  
_And no, should be fine._

Cassian isn’t as confident that it’s going to be fine, especially considering he hasn’t gone over what he’s going to say today. He has to hope that an entire semester’s worth of preparing will help him more than using the last few minutes before class to panic-study.

Right. He kind of hates himself a lot right now.

\--

If it weren’t for the cold, Cassian would be hard pressed to enter the drugstore right now. He stands, shivering, on the sidewalk for too long before he has to force himself to walk across the slush covered parking lot and into the uncomfortably bright fluorescent lights of the store.

His first instinct is to glance at the row of cash registers, but there’s no one behind them. In fact, from what he can see the whole store appears to be empty and it unnerves him in a way that shouldn’t matter at all.

He blinks away the feeling, recalling the right aisle that would have a flash drive and quickly makes his way to the far side of the store, finally catching sight of a woman at the pharmacy desk at the back. By the time he brings it up to the cash register, there still isn’t anyone around to check him out. He swallows a flare of frustration--he has to be back to class in less than ten minutes--but that quickly dissipates when he hears Jyn’s voice call out, “I’ll be right with you!”

His head turns automatically, even as the sinking feeling in his stomach begs him not to, and he finds his eyes meeting hers--just a step away but even further in his mind.

“Oh,” she says quietly with a wary expression, her green eyes are wide and her lips press together in a straight line. She looks so much smaller than she should, which is the thought that stands out when there should be something else there. He thinks he should be feeling something specific but there’s just a certain emptiness, like his chest has gone hollow and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Jyn’s wariness changes quickly as she steps around the counter. Her eyes return to meet his, cautious, but still so beautiful. It’s not fair that she’s still exactly as she was, that her teeth still nervously catch her bottom lip, that a piece of her too long bangs falls over her eye and goes past her notice because, as usual, all her focus is on him.

The feeling never changes.

“Are you...ready to check out?” she asks slowly when he doesn’t move, and he hates that her voice brings him back to life, pulls him forward, and he reluctantly places the flash drive on the counter.

“Yeah,” he answers just as quietly, wishing he’d gone anywhere else, wishing he knew how to feel, wishing he could go back and figure out why he’d been so wrong about her.

She takes the package from him, holding it under the scanner. “How are you?”

“Good,” he says automatically. “I guess. You?”

“Um, pretty miserable actually,” she says with a short, awkward laugh. “Can we talk?”

Cassian looks up to see her with her brows pushed together. He doesn’t know what to make of it, he’s stuck somewhere between commiserating with her and angry that she’s the one who put them in this situation in the first place. But even now he can’t help himself, all he wants to do is keep looking at her and that feels so messed up. _He_ feels so messed up and he thinks maybe everything about their relationship had been a mistake or a misunderstanding, but then he remembers a dark room and her voice-- _you’re my best friend_ \--and feels like he doesn’t know anything at all.

So he lets out a slow breath. “No.”

Jyn’s shoulders sink and she frowns before she asks, “Why not?”

“Because I have class,” he says, feeling another flare of frustration frame his words.

“Oh, right. You have your presentation with Baze today, yeah?”

Cassian pauses where he’s pulling money out of his wallet. He stops and he looks at her, really looks at her, because nothing’s really changed, has it? She still...has these pieces of him. She still knows these little details about his life because there hasn’t been enough time to distance them. He looks at her, and her expression’s opened into something more curious than wary, and underneath it all he can’t shake the feeling that she still cares about him even if everything in him wants to believe otherwise.

He just--Cassian doesn’t--he--he doesn’t understand.

“Yeah,” he says absently. “In a few minutes, actually.”

“Well good luck,” she says, handing him his receipt. He takes it from her, reaching across the counter to grab the flash drive as well, and pauses. He finds he can’t move at all because there should be something else here. There should be something said or done that would peel back some of the damage, something to set them right again if that’s what he really wants.

But no, all there’s left to say is a quiet, “Thanks.”

Cassian takes in one last look before dropping his gaze to his hands, where he clutches the flash drive in one and crumples the receipt in the other. He turns to head towards the door when she calls out, “Cass!”

He fixes her with another look, raising a brow.

“Just--” she starts, and lets it hang there. “I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t mean much and you don’t have the time to talk, but I really wanted you to know that.”

Cassian feels something in his chest loosen, but he grasps for words, just standing there watching Jyn with just the counter creating a barrier between them. Eventually he nods, knowing that he does, actually, need to leave as soon as possible, and says, “Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeats. “Um. Text me, I guess, when you have the time to talk.”

“Right,” he says flatly, unsure how to feel so he retreats into nothing at all. He glances at the door and says, “I gotta go.”

“Bye Cass,” he hears her say, but he’s already on his way out, not sparing a glance behind him, knowing that whatever’s there will only cause more distress.

\--

Baze stands on the other side of the board, and their presentation lights up dully against the glossy finish but Cassian only glanced at it briefly before his eyes unfocused and fell to the floor, taking in the murky and dull gray pattern etched into the cheap carpet.

He supposes he’s still in the drugstore, watching Jyn act unlike herself--withdrawn and quiet and unsure. He’s never known her to be like that. He’s never been a stranger to her, even at that Halloween party. They had been so sure of each other from the beginning, right from the start in that blurry kitchen that spun like a carousel.

The lights, the letters, the heavy sound--the way she tipped her head back to meet his gaze and said _you look like Christopher Columbus._

He didn’t know just how happy he’d been.

“Cassian,” he hears Baze say in a pointed voice, and blinks to himself. He looks up to see that they’re on a slide he’s supposed to talk about and his brain goes blank out of sheer panic.

“Um,” he starts, glancing at Professor Krennic, whose brows furrow at the back of the room, and switches to Baze, whose wide eyes plead with Cassian to _say something_.

“Um,” he says again, and he knows that if he doesn’t say something intelligent soon he’ll not only screw this up for himself, but for Baze as well. Guilt rises up in his chest, but luckily he catches Baze glance at the notecards in his hands and Cassian looks down, fumbling with them--

Bright yellow, bright pink, bright orange.

He made these before Thanksgiving.

He can’t think about it, though, he just takes a deep breath and reads off the first card, knowing that it makes him look wildly unprepared, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. He can’t help but think that every single Monday of this semester has been a complete waste of time if he’s going to choke like this.

As it is, he reads through the rest of the presentation, and when it’s over he can’t even make himself look at Baze, who’s probably so, so disappointed in him.

Well, Cassian knows the feeling.

\--

And that’s how Monday goes.

\--

On Tuesday Cassian has to figure out what to do with the time that he’d normally spend with Jyn on her break. He’d like to say that he’s going to do something clever or interesting, or maybe even get the work done that he’s been putting aside for the past week. Perhaps he could call Baze and apologize for yesterday, but the truth of the matter is that Cassian sits at an empty table in the library, drifting in and out of half formed thoughts.

God, he’s getting more pathetic by the day.

And the thing about these thoughts is that they’re completely pointless. It never really adds up to anything, no answers or conclusions, just repeated fragments of a conversation they shouldn't have had or ones they could’ve had--how it should've gone, what should've been said, or what would've happened if Jyn felt the same way as him.

Again--it’s pointless.

But it’s enough of a distraction for him to wait out the time before his next class. He packs up the books that he didn’t use to study and makes his way across campus, clenching his teeth against the brutal cold. It’s a bitter day, overcast and downright biting. He has a scarf on but it doesn’t ease the discomfort of breathing in the empty, chilled air.

By the time he makes it to the right building, he’s pretty sure he’s never going to feel his hands again. He stretches them out, diverting his attention as he takes his seat in class. It’s only when he looks up to see Leia watching him that he realizes he didn’t think this through.

“We need to talk,” she says, and yeah. He’s heard that one before, but as he regards her she doesn’t look upset--quite the opposite, actually. Her usually cool expression is bent into something warm and happy, even her eyes look softer. Everything about her seems calm and...happy?

“Okay,” he says, more confused than anything else. He pulls out a notebook, catching her nod to herself out of the corner of his eye, and turns his attention to the front of the classroom where he receives yet another study guide for yet another final that he knows he’s not prepared to take.

At least this time he isn’t distracted by Jyn, but wondering about Leia seems to occupy just as much of his attention.

Or maybe he’s just losing it.  

\--

They head for the dining common after class ends. Leia suggests coffee and Cassian isn’t one to turn down a hot drink on a cold, cold day, so he agrees. They walk close, whether from the cold or from habit, Cassian isn’t sure, but he looks over at her, and she still has that pleased expression on her face and he’s so curious he can’t help it.

“You look happy,” he says, lifting his chin from where it was buried in his scarf.

“You say that like it’s unusual,” she complains, knocking her shoulder against his. She’s wearing a big white coat, and it’s puffy enough that it cushions the space between them. Cassian half laughs at the way she bounces off of him and shakes his head.

“I guess it’s not unusual,” he says, then shrugs his shoulders. “But that doesn’t make it any less unnerving. What did you want to talk about?”

She looks at the building ahead of them. “You can’t wait two more minutes?”

“Apparently not.”

“Come on, I believe in you,” she says, and loops her big puffy arm through his. They hurry the rest of the way, blinking against the cold until the dining common envelops them in it’s afternoon business, all warmth and activity.

She offers to buy him a coffee if he’ll find them a seat, so he ends up waiting for her in the most garish blue and brown booth the school owns. It has a nice view of the courtyard covered in snow and it makes him think of his first few weeks on campus. Back when everything was new and a little overwhelming, Bodhi would meet him here for lunch on Fridays.

Leia returns with two paper cups of coffee, raising her brows at the booth. “Nice find.”

“Thanks for coming back quickly, you know how dangerous it is to be one person in a booth.”

She laughs, and he knows it’s because it’s true. People are ruthless when they want a booth, and a single target is much easier to kick out than a whole group of people. Leia hands him a coffee and says, “I doubt anyone would mess with you.”

He raises a brow. “Why?”

“It’s safe to say most people know who you are at this point,” she clarifies. “And I guess old high school dynamics never really die.”

It takes him a moment to work that out in his head. “Leia, are you calling me popular?”

“You’re the one who spends all your time with Jyn Erso, who’s basically everyone’s child or sister or best friend. Speaking of which--”

“You said you had news?” Cassian interrupts, unwilling to go there just yet.

“I didn’t,” she says. “But I can recognize deflection when I see it and I’m feeling amenable today, mostly because it’s true.”

He works up a smile. “Well let’s hear your news, then.”

“I went on a date,” she says immediately, the words rushing out as if she hesitated she wouldn’t say them at all. Her eyes are a little wide but she smiles and goes on to explain, “Saturday night. With Han.”

“Ah,” he says, finally able to make sense of it. “It’s about time.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you were right.”

He fakes a look of shock and says, “I’m going to need that in writing. I take it that it went well, then?”

“Really well,” she says, and smiles down at her hands clutched around her cup of coffee. Cassian has to let out a slow breath when she doesn’t say anything more, caught up in some half-frustrated, half-envious mindspace.

Because as much as he wants to be happy for her, it’s not the easiest thing to do right now. The thought makes him feel selfish, but he’s able to push that aside and ask, “Anything else you want to add to that?”

She watches him for a moment before pressing her lips together. “I knew we should’ve started with you.”

“What? No,” he says. “Tell me about your date. Where’d you go, what did you do? Will there be more dates in the future?”

“Don’t try to distract me. I heard you had a crazy fight with Jyn and went home for the weekend.”

“What?” he asks again, this time without any semblance of a smile. “Where did you hear that?”

She shrugs. “It got around.”

“From where, though?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Is it true?”

“No, Leia, it matters a lot. Who told you?”

“Come on, Cass. Don’t be like that.”

“Was it Jyn?”

Leia rolls her eyes. “No, it wasn’t Jyn. I haven’t talked to her in a week.”

“Then who told you?” How could it be anyone else? How could--

“I said it doesn’t matter, Cass. It’s whatever--secrets don’t last long here. Someone always knows something.”

Cassian feels a little sick as he wraps his hands around the hot cup in front of him. He drops his gaze to the table, frowning to himself. “That’s messed up.”

“Well judging by the way you’re reacting, it must be true. What did you fight about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he states in a flat voice.

“Come on,” she says. “Was it that bad?”

He looks up at her. “Stop. I said I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“What, Jyn breaks your heart and suddenly you’re incapable of talking to your other friends?”

“It’s not talking, you just want to gossip.”

“That’s not true,” she insists. “It’s the gossip that makes me worry about you. I’m not--I don’t use you like that.”

“Whatever,” he says. “Thanks for the coffee, but I should get going.”

“Are you serious?” she asks.

“Look, Leia. I’m happy for you, okay? I think it’s great that you and Han are finally figuring things out, but that’s--”

“What?”

“That’s it,” he says. He glances around them, catching the eye of several students who openly glance over at them. “You know, Jyn was right about this town. It’s toxic. I’ll talk to you after our final, I’m sure someone will keep you updated until then.”

He spares her one last look before getting up from the booth, taking his cup of coffee with him because he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He feels bad that her lingering happiness has crashed down into something less pleasant. It’s just--the thing is--he wanted so badly to be apart of this town, to be close with other people and feel like he was accepted into the community. But like this? Here--where people know his business and talk about him behind his back, where information about him passes between people too easily. It isn’t what he wanted after all.

Who was it last Thursday night? Who could’ve overheard their argument and brought it back to Whitebridge?

How could Leia know without Jyn or Bodhi telling her?

\--

Cassian feels his frustration both flourish and diminish on the way home. His irritation with other drivers works its way out enough that he realizes he has to force himself to calm down. That’s about when he feels himself deflate and admit that maybe things just aren’t going so good right now. Like, in general, or even a little bit, or at all.

Something’s gotta put it all back together.

Which is why when Bodhi asks, “Can we talk?” the second Cassian comes home, he doesn’t freak out.

“You too?” he returns wryly, heaving off his heavy backpack and greeting K2, who jumps up onto the back of the chair he’s standing next to. The afternoon sun falls so early these days, coating the room in its last rays of light.

Bodhi’s sitting at the kitchen table, and he’s wearing a WSU sweatshirt that's passed between them so often neither of them can remember who bought it. He looks like he’s going to question him, with a brow raised as he puts down his pen, but ends up shaking his head and says, “Sure.”

Cassian half laughs, coming over to join him at the table. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking about you and Jyn.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bodhi confirms, pressing his lips together before asking, “Do you remember when I told you about what happened with her and I?”

Cassian nods, he remembers that morning quite clearly, actually. He was hungover and fresh off of Jyn’s rejection. It’s funny how back then he’d been so sure that everything would change. It did change, though, they got closer because of it. They kissed and didn’t talk about it--or rather, they kissed and swept it under the rug until they yelled at each other about it.

He really should’ve seen this coming.

“Yeah, I remember,” Cassian says, “we were in my room.”

Bodhi nods. “If you think about it, though, Jyn and I were in a similar situation as the two of you.”

“How so?”

“I was best friends with her before getting in a fight that ruined our relationship.”

Cassian snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, and pushes his book out of the way so he can rest his elbows on the table. “Here’s the thing, though. I don’t want you to make the same mistake that I did.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jyn wanted to work things out. She wanted to talk, and I told her no. Things...maybe they wouldn’t have been fixed, but they could’ve been a lot better if I had just listened to what she had to say.”

Cassian lets out a long, slow breath. “So you’re suggesting that I talk to her.”

“Just be open to it,” Bodhi says, and his voice is sincere. “Honestly, I really regret it, but I think you have the chance to make things right, and I think you guys could be good together.”

“Thanks Bodhi,” he says. “And I’m sorry about what happened between you. It’s probably not too late for whatever conversation you need to have.”

Bodhi smiles faintly. “You know, you’re right. When I went to see her the other day, it was the first time we talked in a really, really long time.”

“That’s good,” Cassian says honestly, once again just absolutely grateful that this is his roommate.  

Bodhi tucks a loose piece of hair behind his ear, and his smile widens as he says, “It is.”

\--

Cassian lies awake that night, thinking about it.

The room spins in deep gray circles around him. There’s an emptiness and a silence, there are shadows barely visible in this low light, and there’s Cassian on his side, his eyes blinking widely into the dark. But just like this, with everything in his room outlined by the night that sinks on top of him, he can almost imagine that the entire world has gone quiet.

Cassian stays awake, and he reaches over to his phone, letting its light fill up the room. He squints against the brightness of his screen, but then he lets it wash over him, staring at it for a long time before typing out a message. It takes him even longer to send it.

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _If you didn’t mean it, why did you say it?_

It’s all he can muster up, even if it sounds unclear to his own mind. He puts his phone down on his chest, thinking about Thursday in a way he never wants to again. The way she recoiled, how _I felt sorry for you_ fell from her lips, and the way the floodlights touched her skin and made her look alive even when he wanted to look away.

And though it’s past midnight, his phone buzzes against his chest. Cassian hesitates for a moment before picking it up.

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _It’d be better if I could explain it all in person._

Cassian reads it again and again.

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _Yeah, you’re probably right.  
_ _..._  
_I’ll let you know when I have time, it’ll probably be after finals._

He hesitates before he hits _send_. He knows he has his first final on Friday, and just thinking about it makes his head hurt. Now that he’s opened the door to talk to Jyn, suddenly it’s all he wants to do, but tomorrow’s the last day of class and then they have one free day to study. Cassian needs to make the most use of his time as possible.

In the end, Jyn only texts him back:

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _Okay._

\--

Cassian tries to sleep.

He really does, but it’s fitful and restless and his bed has never felt this uncomfortable. He lays on his back, watching the ceiling with his eyes wide open because he’s frustratingly awake and knows that he isn’t about to fall back to sleep any time soon.

In hindsight, it’s probably why he does it. He knows how tired he is of watching the colorless ceiling and thinking about Jyn, he’s tired of wondering what the right thing to do is, or if standing still is just as good as saying goodbye.

Cassian only half realizes it when he picks up his phone again. He pushes his blankets back and sits up, reaching over to grab it. He finds her name mindlessly, as if it’s a practiced motion to scroll through his contacts and land on Jyn Erso.

“Hello?” he hears her ask, and her voice sounds very far away.  

“Sorry,” he bites out automatically, feeling stupidly selfish for calling. “Hi.”

“Cassian?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s four twenty-five. In the morning. As in, why are you calling me right now?”

“And here I thought you’d be happy to hear my voice.”

“Yeah, well, give me a minute.”

“Sorry,” he says again, and his eyes have adjusted to the dark enough that he can make out a loose thread in his pillowcase. He brushes his thumb over it.  

“No,” she rushes. “It’s fine, I promise I’m awake now, and I’m guessing you wouldn’t call in the middle of the night unless it was important.”

He half laughs, because it felt important, but now he isn’t as sure. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says sheepishly. “Hindsight is 20/20, but since you’re awake too...”

“You want to talk?”

“If not now, right?” He breathes out a small sound, something hesitant and uncomfortable. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

“Sure,” she answers. “Yeah, that’d be good. I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon,” he repeats, and hangs up. Tossing on a pair of jeans and a warm sweatshirt, Cassian stumbles around his dark room, picking up a hat, gloves, a scarf, anything he might need to face a cold December morning.

He doesn’t really know what he’s thinking when he grabs his keys and his coat, he doesn’t allow himself to go there. It’s too messy and if he hasn’t made any sense of it by now, then he knows he won’t on his way to her. He passes by K2 sleeping on the couch and shuts the door behind him as quietly as possible.

His hands feel funny on the steering wheel, and it’s strange because only the streetlights are on. All the houses sit in the dark, pushed back away from the road, and there’s no other cars around, no signs of life--just the sound of his tires rolling over the gravel streets.

And this is Whitebridge: a town that sleeps in the dark.

Jyn’s sitting on her front porch when he pulls up. Her head lifts from where she was resting it on her arms, and his headlights shine too brightly over her figure. She has a beanie pulled low over her forehead and the lower half of her face is covered in her gray scarf, but her tired eyes still search for his before she stands up. Cassian feels the weight of the entire situation drown him.

She walks in front of the car and it’s like the other night never really ended. He sees her and he sees his headlights strike the front porch and all he can think is _I felt sorry for you_ and _I didn’t mean it_ and he wonders if it’s possible to love someone when you feel like this.

“Hi,” she says quietly when she gets in the car, letting all the cold in with her. She pulls her scarf away from her face, unraveling it and folding it on her lap before putting on her seatbelt. Cassian watches in a resigned kind of way, unsure of where they’re going or what they’re doing or what talking will really mean for them, if it’s going to change anything or if this is it--

If this is the last time he picks her up from her house, if it’s the last time he’ll glance over at her, feeling the constant pull to look away from the road and let his eyes watch her profile light up in the dark. There’s this glow and this silence, and he backs down the drive, choking out a small, “Hi,” as well.

“Shouldn’t you be studying for finals?” she tries to joke, but it falls flat. The tension sits heavily between them, and Cassian can’t tell if she’s nervous or not. She looks tired, but that’s all he can gather from her features, which sit in a neutral kind of intensity. Something harsh but inexplicable, unable to be read. Closed off.

“I should be sleeping,” he says. “But for some reason I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“That almost makes it sound like a good thing.”

He sighs, turning onto the main road that leads away from town. It’ll do them some good to get away from here and put some common ground between them. It feels good to drive, to have something to divide his focus rather than stay in his mixed up head. With his fingers tight around the steering wheel, Cassian glances over at Jyn again. Her head is tilted towards the window, leaving him with just a shadow of her face and the way that her hat comes down over her ears.

He’s tired of not knowing what she’s thinking.

The minutes stretch out in silence, and one empty street after another disappears beneath the car. Cassian shakes his head to himself and says, “I thought you wanted to talk.”

“It’s easier in theory,” she says with a laugh that’s more self deprecating than it is humorous. “You know, these past few days I’ve been making myself miserable trying to figure out a way to explain why I am the way that I am. I told myself that as long as I could sit you down and talk to you, that I could make it better, but...it’s just not that easy.”

Cassian hums for a moment, feeling impatient but unsteady. It’s going on five in the morning and here they are. It’s always the two of them in the dark, isn't it? It’s always the two of them in this car and suddenly Cassian can’t put off this question for another second.  “Why did you tell me that you felt sorry for me?”

Jyn stays quiet for a long time. The silence is painful, and the car continues to drag over the streets some distance away from Whitebridge now. Finally, her voice is quiet when she says, “I wanted to hurt you.”

And she still doesn’t look at him so he doesn’t look at her, but Cassian lets out a breath and asks, “Why?”

“So that you’d stop asking about it, so that you’d stop pushing,” she says, and her voice is harsher. “I wanted to hurt you because I wanted you to stop and I knew it would work. That’s--that’s the way I am, Cass. I feel like I have to protect myself at all costs, so I do protect myself at all costs, and it ruins everything.”

She hesitates, but this time she looks over at him, and her green eyes look dark and wary when they meet his. She continues, “I couldn’t take it though, when I realized what I’d said. It was terrible, and mean, and I don’t really think that way. You’re incredible, you have to know that. You are wonderful and you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, but I don’t know how to let you in without telling you everything.”

“What--” he starts, but can’t finish. He feels part of him break apart--this anger that he’s held onto feels suddenly less important and he doesn’t know what to do without it. “What are you protecting yourself from?”

She smiles sadly to herself. “Um, of being vulnerable, I guess. You know, of giving people the power to hurt me. Or maybe it’s that some part of me thinks that if I let someone in they won’t like what they see, and then that’s it. It’s easier to be like this.”

“It must be lonely, though.”

“Only when I burn all my friendships,” Jyn says, laughing in a way that doesn’t sound happy. “I feel like I haven’t talked to anyone since Thursday.”

“And here I’ve been having the opposite problem.”

“Yeah, well,” she waves a hand arbitrarily. The quiet washes over them again, and Jyn shifts where she’s sitting, pulling the seatbelt out and around her coat before she asks, “What are you thinking about?”

“Crystal Beach,” he answers, which is a dumb thing to say and he can feel Jyn’s confusion so he clarifies, “It should be coming up ahead. We could stop there.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I don’t know how to feel right now.”

“Okay,” she says quietly. “Let’s go to Crystal Beach, then.”

Cassian focuses on the road, because it’s been a long time since he’s been here and he doesn’t know exactly where it is. There’s a blue sign for it, though, and then everything becomes familiar again. He can’t see the lake from the road, but the parking lot is empty and there’s a tall street lamp that casts enough light to see by.

“Come on,” he says, pulling his gloves on after the car is in park. She squints at him for a moment before wrapping her scarf carefully around her neck and tucking it into her coat. She adjusts her hat, and then Cassian opens his door, letting the cold air wash over him.

In the dark it’s hard to make out the hills that slope over the opposite side of the lake, but the shadows linger against the sky that’s already beginning to pale. It’s blue black slipping into something softer, something muted and low, just waiting for the sun to rise in a couple of hours.

The air is so much colder here, but Cassian pulls himself up onto the hood of the car and a moment later Jyn joins him. It’s just like that night a couple weeks ago, a similar time, a similar place, but still so different.

She sits close enough that her shoulder brushes against his, and as angry and defeated as he’s been since Thursday, he’s missed her. He looks over at her, and her eyes are only bright from the distant lights of the street. There’s no moon left in the sky, just the stars and stray clouds and Cassian wants to love it all but his stomach is still tight with stress and there’s something bone-deep about his exhaustion. His lungs itch for a cigarette but he can’t do it--not here.

“Jyn,” he starts, and it’s better this time because he can really look at her, really see the way she reacts to his voice. And there’s only one question he hesitates to ask, but it’s one that’s stayed on his mind for a long time. “Does this have to do with your father?”

Her eyes fall to her lap, at her hands that twist together but she nods, not saying anything.

“What happened?” he asks, as gently as possible.

She looks up at him with wide eyes. “Pass?”

“What?”

“Next question,” she says. “I don’t want to answer that one yet.”

“This isn’t an interview,” he says, frowning. “This isn’t where I expect you to give me a full autobiography, you know? I mean, yeah, the other night I was upset, and I was frustrated because I feel like in a lot of ways I don’t know much about you, but that doesn’t mean you owe me anything.”

She shakes her head. “You can’t have it both ways. Either you want me to tell you or you don’t, because if you’re waiting for me to just volunteer to tell you it’s probably not going to happen.”

“That makes sense,” he offers, but it doesn’t feel right because he doesn’t know what to _do_. He doesn’t know what could be that bad that causes her to push everyone away. He doesn’t want to force it out of her, but how do they move forward with this between them?

His eyes move to the lake, where the water moves very little, if at all. He looks at the lake and he feels Jyn’s shoulder against hers, but it’s her voice that pulls him out of it.

“What do you want?” she asks.

And Cassian presses his lips together. “A time machine, maybe, but I don’t think it would change anything...I guess I just want answers because I’ve been going over it again and again in my head. Like, what changed between Thanksgiving and my birthday? What--why did...if you didn’t kiss me because you felt sorry for me, then why did you do it? Jyn, why can’t it mean anything?”

“I don’t think you realize how much you scare me,” she says.

“What?”

“I’m not afraid _of you_ ,” she clarifies. “But the idea of you--of being in a relationship with you and giving you some sort of responsibility for my happiness...it’s terrifying. It’s not that it didn’t mean anything, but if we could just keep acting like it didn’t, then maybe I could convince myself that it was normal, that we were still just friends and nothing was changing--that we weren’t as close as we were. I don’t know. It makes sense to me, but I don’t think that counts for much.

“And your birthday,” she continues, shaking her head. “I was being dumb. I let Leia get to me and it just--started to make me think about what you and I were really doing.”

That doesn’t really make sense to Cassian but he doesn’t push the thought aside. There’s so many pieces to this puzzle but none of them really fit together. It makes him realize just how much he wants it to, he realizes that if there’s even a chance that he and Jyn can work this out, they should.

Right? If it’s just...fear stopping them, then maybe they could still make it work.

“I’m not making sense, am I?” Jyn asks, and maybe she can read his mind.

“Not really,” he answers with an amused sigh.

“I wish I could tell you about it without saying anything,” she says seriously, and her mouth presses together in an unhappy line that’s more honest than any other time she’s diverted his attention away from talking about her dad.

“I’m here,” he says, reaching over to take her hand when she looks away. Her fingers catch his and link together, squeezing them tightly. “I’ll listen to whatever you want to tell me.”

There’s a long silence, and Cassian watches their breath curl out in front of them. They’re like two smokers caught in the early morning. Their world isn’t bright but it’s visible, and that makes all the difference.

“I grew up with a fake Christmas tree,” she says, which seems irrelevant until she says, “I think that’s initially why I was so mad Thursday night. For the first eight years of my life my dad would haul the same ratty old tree up from the basement and we’d decorate it together. He wasn’t rich, but he was good and he always made sure I knew how much he loved me.”

Cassian feels himself still, knowing that there’s no going back from this.

In a shaky voice she continues, “He was my best friend, too. My mother passed away before I knew her, but I never really felt that loss. I didn’t need to. We would play and talk and he would come up with these little ways for me to help out on the farm. I guess...I don’t know. I was happy in that way that I didn’t know I was happy. It was just the way life was, and I didn’t think it would change.”

Cassian squeezes her hand once and she grips his even tighter. She goes on to say, “Then he just...disappeared. I was in the field, I was--I was by our tree when Saw came by. He said--God. He said--”

Cassian hears her take a deep breath, watery but forceful, and he has to press his lips together in an attempt to stay steady for her.

“He said,” she starts again, “that my dad got a call, and that I had to stay with him for a little while. The thing is, I knew something was wrong. I just--I knew it, I knew that something didn’t feel right and I remember that I didn’t want to leave the field. I wanted to go back to the house to make sure that he was telling the truth, but I didn’t.”

The words are choked out, as though they’re unbidden and now that’s she’s started she can’t stop. “It’s so stupid, but for a long time I wondered what would’ve happened if I didn’t go with Saw, if I had stayed...would I have seen him one more time? Would I get to say goodbye or even ask why he left me? Cass--I don’t know why he left me, but he’s gone and I have no idea what happened to him. I never saw him again, and I--I don’t remember our last conversation or what he was wearing that morning. I don’t know if he’s alive, or if he’s okay or--or if he just didn’t want me anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” he says uselessly, but he pulls her against his chest. She goes willingly, her hands finding the fabric of his coat and gripping it as she turns her head against him. “I’m so sorry.”

And Cassian, who knows the pain of knowing that he’s not wanted by his birth mother, the pain of bearing that memory, reading those words, and knowing how little he mattered to her--he still carries that with him despite the fact that he never knew her. He can’t imagine how infinitely more painful it must be for Jyn, who knew and loved her father.

“Did you ask Saw about it?” he asks, because he knows that _I’m sorry_ doesn’t mean anything and holding her doesn’t feel like enough. Nothing could really be enough for this.

“Yeah,” she says in a distant voice. “He always claimed that he didn’t know, that Papa only asked him to take care of me and that he couldn’t explain, but I always suspected he knew more. He--I was seventeen when he got sick, I nearly had to drop out of school because I spent all my time visiting him in the hospital. Then, one day during senior year he told me to stop coming. Apparently it was making my life too unstable and he hated that I’d go home to an empty house. He talked to Kathy, agreed on a living situation for me, and that was that.”

Cassian’s hand sweeps across her back, making any attempt he can at comforting her. He feels useless, but he also feels like he can’t get close enough to her. He has her wrapped up in his arms, but somehow he still wants to be closer.

“I know he thought it was the best thing for me,” she says, “but I felt so betrayed. The next time I went to visit him they said he’d transferred out. I didn’t even bother looking for him, I--in that moment I really, really hated him. Out of everyone, he’s the only one who really knew about my father, and he turned around and did the same exact thing to me.”

“God,” Cassian mutters under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut against where his head rests on hers. He can feel her shaking, these trembles that slow and quicken with the way her breath shutters, and he wants to say _I’m sorry_ again but it still wouldn’t do any good.

“This isn’t what you wanted,” she mumbles into his coat before pulling away. The brightening sky reflects muted pink against her skin, already red around the eyes. “You can’t tell me that.”

“No,” he agrees. “No I can’t, but Jyn--you shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.”

She shakes her head. “Don't.”

“No,” he says again. “I know I can’t fix any of it, but I’m here, okay? I still care about you so, so much.”

“Cassian,” she says, her voice breaking as her lips form his name, and how strange it is to hear her say his full name. She looks away, pressing her gloved hand under one eye and then the other. She leans forward until her head rests against his shoulder and says, “I don’t know where to go from here.”

“Me neither,” he says, but he settles an arm around her waist and presses his lips to the top of her head, just kind of staying there as his eyes rest on the hills in the distance, tinged with pink against the white snow.

She breathes out, long and slow. “I missed you, you know.”

Cassian hums softly, and it’s something that would sound pained if he gave it more thought. Instead he lets it go, watching the morning clear and shift into something that isn’t bright but still more than it was. Jyn shifts further into his arms, and her body heat feels good. He holds her tightly, and the both of them stay quiet as the world seemingly comes back to life.

They’re there long enough that he can feel himself drifting off, and it isn’t until Jyn shifts out of his embrace that he’s aware of what’s going on around him. She looks at him, and it’s easier to see her now, it’s easier to see everything as the sky saturates with light, and she takes his hand, pulling him up from where they were sitting on the hood of his car.

“Come on,” she says, and tugs him along with her. Their feet kick up sand as they walk side by side to where the lake laps against the shore. Her hand stays in his and the breeze blows at them, pulling a few strands of her hair away from where it’s tucked into her scarf, blowing freely against her nose, her cheeks...

“Hey,” he says, getting her attention from where her gaze was caught across the lake. Her face tilts up towards him and her eyes meet his--wary but steady. He squeezes her hand once and says, “It’s okay.”

“Yeah,” she says absently, still watching him. “Yeah, it is.”

\--

The drive home is short and quiet and the first rays of the sunrise slip between the trees in some blinding but beautiful way. The street lights are off but the roads are still relatively empty, and when Cassian rests his hand between them, Jyn takes it in hers.

It’s enough.

He pulls up to her house, and it’s only a little after seven but it feels later than that. Cassian feels like he’s been through a full day already, or maybe he’s just continuing yesterday since he hardly slept. It doesn’t matter, something’s been put back in place.

The car is in park and he looks over at her. She lets go of his hand to grab her scarf, clutching it in her lap before she meets his gaze. And this is Jyn Erso: a girl who’s been hurt and who’s hurt him and somehow they’re coming out on the other side of it all.

There’s hope between them. It’s in her eyes and the tired smile that pulls at her lips. It’s in the way his hand still feels the impression of hers, and the way sun lights her up like she’s beloved. It’s everything.

“Thank you,” he says, “for telling me.”

Her smile grows and she nods a little to herself. “We’re gonna figure this out.”

“We will,” he agrees. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Soon,” she confirms, and Cassian watches her throw her scarf over her shoulder before putting her hand on the door handle, taking one last look before going out into the cold morning. She crosses in front of the car and makes it up to the front door before she turns around, coming back towards him.

Cassian rolls down the window, confused, but she bends her head close to his and says, “For old time’s sake” before she presses a kiss to his cheek.

The feeling stays.


	11. Elope for the Fore

Of all the times that Cassian’s driven home from Jyn’s house, this has to be the most foolishly happy he’s been.

It’s not just the hope that’s settled in his bones, or the way the sun tips higher in the sky and throws gold, early morning light across the front lawns and roofs and the stop sign at the end of her street. It’s something closer to the way she looked at him from her front steps--her expression soft and open, drawing her back to him.

He has his elbow propped against the window and his hand over his mouth, but it doesn’t hide the fact that his lips tip up at the corners. He presses them together in some attempt to keep him from getting his hopes up, but it feels too big to ignore. It’s as though everything has shifted, and to say it doesn’t mean anything would betray the very change that has sparked this thread of hope that beats through him as though it’s replaced his blood.

Jyn’s defiance of her hurts, her pain, and her past--defying always holding back, always keeping it to herself, always maintaining a distance--this is it: there’s something she values more than holding on to what’s hurt her the most.

So maybe it isn’t something to be happy about, but still. This is progress. This is moving forward. This is--

This is a real beginning for them, and Cassian needs to take care of it.

Which is why when he gets home, he doesn’t say anything to Bodhi’s raised brows. He’s sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal in front of him, and asks, “Are you just getting home now?”

“Yeah,” Cassian answers, moving towards his bedroom, because there’s a chance if he doesn’t lay down soon he’s going to pass out. “I talked to Jyn. You were right.”

And with that he disappears into his room. It’s funny now, to think that just a few hours ago he left here, wondering if this would be the last time he’d see Jyn. The blinds are still closed and his covers are thrown aside, everything looks unsettled, but Cassian puts it back together.

It’s time to put it all back together.

\--

It makes sense, then, to start with Baze.

Cassian gets about an hour’s worth of sleep, maybe less, since he lies awake for longer than he expects. It’s hard to fully settle down with all the thoughts running listlessly through his head. He thought talking it through would slow it all down, but somehow it’s gotten more intense.

Most of these thoughts lead back to one question: _where do they go from here?_

So it’s safe to say that by the time Cassian makes it to class, he’s not feeling one hundred percent. He’s actually early, but he half collapses in his desk, scanning the room to see if Baze has arrived yet. He takes to scrolling aimlessly through his phone when he realizes that he isn’t.

The thing is, he feels so guilty about Monday. His whole chest burns with embarrassment when he remembers the way he stuttered through their presentation, or the look on Baze’s face as he urged him to say something. It comes back with too much clarity for how tired he is, and Cassian waits the last few minutes for class to start in discomfort--with anxiety pulling at the center of his chest.

Baze doesn’t show up until well into the first presentation, and when he comes in, it’s with his head down as he takes a seat in the back, leaving the one next to Cassian empty. The lights are off for two of his classmates, who stand in front of the board and stumble through their own presentation. Cassian probably looks crazy, the way he checks over his shoulder every few minutes, but wants to get Baze’s attention.

Baze isn’t even watching from what Cassian can tell, and Cassian hardly pays attention himself. It’s some half hearted presentation that goes on for far too long, but from what he does understand, it’s significantly better than theirs on Monday. But Baze sits with his head resting on one hand, keeping his eyes on his desk, and it’s a little hopeless to do anything other than wait for class to end.

Isn’t that funny? How, in some way, when you want class to end that’s when it goes on for far longer than it needs to. Professor Krennic asks the two at the front of the room question after question--it feels endless--and it continues even as the clock ticks past the usual time they get out.

If there’s any upside to this, it’s that this is the last class of the semester.

But then the lights are thrown on and Cassian’s blinking it away, seeing the room full of color again and grabbing his backpack before he hurries towards the back of the classroom, calling out Baze’s name before he gets the chance to leave.

And Baze, to his credit, just looks at him with slight interest. “What’s up?”

“Um,” Cassian starts, and the word kind of stays in his mouth. He hesitates, even in his thoughts, on what to say, and it takes a moment but then he asks, “Can I give you a ride home?”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Of course,” Baze says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Did you think I wanted to walk home in the cold?”

And yeah, maybe it is that simple.

They make their way to the student parking lot together, and it’s a bright day but it’s bitterly cold. Between talking about their schedules for finals and how boring class was, Cassian finds himself clenching his teeth together. His hands are jammed in his pocket, his right is tightly wrapped around his keys, and his nose starts to feel runny as he breathes the cold air in and out.

There are stray snowflakes on his windshield but they melt away once Cassian gets the heat going in the car. The whole area is swamped with students--not unusual but still aggravating trying to navigate the parking lot.

When they’re finally clear of the university, Cassian takes a deep breath and says, “About Monday...”

“I think we did a good job,” Baze says evenly.

Cassian’s brows collapse at the absurdity of that statement. “What?”

“What? You thought it was bad?”

“It was,” he states. “It was terrible and it’s my fault. I really want to apologize for that.”

He glances over to see Baze’s mouth pull into a frown. Like this he looks thoughtful, as though he never even considered that their presentation was anything other than good. Quiet settles between them for a moment as Cassian drives the familiar roads back to Baze and Chirrut’s house.

“You seemed upset,” Baze finally settles on. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best you could’ve done, I’ll give you that, but that doesn’t mean it was bad. You still hit all our main points and answered Krennic’s questions. Why would I need an apology for that?”

Cassian doesn’t know what to say for a long moment, staring straight ahead at the road that dips in and out of the street lamps’ light. His grip tightens on the steering wheel until he finally settles on, “Still. I’m sorry.”

“Cassian,” Baze says as they pull up to a stop sign, and he doesn’t continue until Cassian looks over at him and sees the honest smile that ghosts over his lips. “It’s okay. One geology grade won’t have much effect on my degree _or_ my life. I’m just glad that class is over.”

Cassian half laughs at that, shaking his head to himself. “Me too.”

Baze doesn’t say anything after that, he just hums to himself and reaches for the radio, switching between stations again and again until they pull up to his house. The flowers have been long gone, but Cassian’s headlights brush over that dark blue door and he knows that this is something he’s going to miss.

“Do you want to stay for dinner? We’re eating early tonight,” Baze asks once the car is parked. “Jyn’s here, if that affects your answer in any way.”

Cassian sharply turns to look at him, wondering what he means by that. It reminds him of Leia, in a way, how she claimed to know about him and Jyn without Jyn telling her. He wonders if it’s the same thing in this situation, if maybe Baze found out from whoever’s been spreading it around, or if maybe Jyn spoke to him.

Either way, it’s not an issue anymore. It’s funny how it was just this morning that he and Jyn were together, that just this morning they sat on his car and talked, and he doesn’t know how, specifically, things have changed between them, but they’ve changed all the same.

So he agrees, following Baze up the front walk and into the same, strange living room he’s been coming to all semester--where he spent his birthday and where he first met Jyn after Halloween, like she was supposed to come back into his life.

The whole house smells great, though. Cassian takes a deep breath in as he eases off his coat, glancing at Baze who’s already headed towards the kitchen.

Jyn’s behind the stove, stirring something orange or maybe red in a large saucepan. Chirrut’s at the kitchen table, and they’re both chatting idly until Baze goes ahead of him and says, “I hope there’s enough food for one more, I found a stray.”

Jyn looks over her shoulder to where he’s leaning against the kitchen entry and catches his eye. A slow smile spreads over her lips and she shakes her head. “Oof, where’d you find this one, Baze? He looks a little rough around the edges.”

“Who is it?” Chirrut asks from where he’s sitting.

“It’s Cassian,” he answers for himself, and levels a look at both Jyn and Baze. “And I’m going to ask you to not judge me by my appearance. I did not sleep very well last night.”

“Oh really?” she asks innocently. “What kept you up?”

He smiles. “I was worried about my relationship with Baze.”

“He says that like a joke,” Baze says, grabbing a glass out of the cabinet. “But it’s true.”

“Should I be worried?” Chirrut asks.

“Nah,” Jyn says. “He’s not the type.”

Cassian just tilts his head, uninterested in pushing that line of conversation any further. Instead he draws closer to her, peeking over her shoulder to get a better look at what’s in the pot. “What are you making?”

“Curry,” she answers, returning to her stirring. “Because _someone_ texted me this afternoon asking me to make it.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Chirrut says.

She half laughs. “Not even a little bit. You know I live to take care you guys. You’re like a couple of old grandpas that I never asked for but love anyway.”

“Grandpas?” Baze questions at the same time Chirrut says, “I knew you loved us.”

Cassian watches with amusement before leaning against the counter further away from the food. “Anything I can do to help?”

“We should keep these two around,” Baze mutters from where he’s sitting next to Chirrut at the table.

“No, I think I’m all set,” Jyn answers, smiling in their direction before looking at him. The curve of her lips softens and she mouths _hey_ at him. Cassian glances over at the two at the table then back at her, reaching over to squeeze the bend of her elbow.

“You good?” he asks quietly.

She looks down at the pot immediately, but nods and lifts her gaze to find his again. She asks, “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” he says, and watches as she moves across the kitchen to pull something out of the refrigerator. He ends up helping set the table, and the four of them sit down to a dinner that’s both light hearted and silly.

It’s exactly what Cassian needs.

\--

“Do you want a ride home?” Cassian asks Jyn as he shrugs on his coat, fishing his keys from his pocket.

She looks up at him with raised brows that smooth out into something more neutral. “That would be perfect, actually.”

He nods and they say goodbye to Baze and Chirrut, passing smiles and hugs at the door. Cassian knows that even though he and Baze don’t have any classes together next semester, they’ll still hang out like this. Maybe if he and Jyn are together--

Well, that’s another matter entirely.

“So how are you, really?” she asks once they’re out on the porch. The cold sweeps over them just as the front lights do, and Cassian looks over at her to see a simple expression on her shadowed face.

“Tired,” he answers honestly. “I didn’t sleep much before I saw you this morning, and I took about an hour nap before class, so the whole ‘being awake’ thing is getting kind of old.”

They separate to get in the car, and what a feeling it is to be here again. To get in and look over at her, with the lights and the silence and the way her eyes focus on his in all their usual intensity.

“What about you?” he asks. “How are you feeling?”

She smiles as she pulls on her seatbelt. “Pretty good, actually. I think I’m gonna pass out the moment I get home, but for now I’m good.”

“Good,” he repeats, and backs down the drive, pulling out onto this empty backstreet of Whitebridge, surrounded by the trees and the overcast sky that looks heavy with winter. It’s like it’s too cold to really be dark--a strange phenomenon that always happens at this time of year. He glances over at her again, at that same light of her profile, and asks, “Do you remember the first time I drove you home from their house?”

“Yeah,” she says with an amused sound. “Feels like ages ago, now.”

And it’s true, because they were still just strangers back then. So much has happened since then, when everything was new and unfamiliar, and Cassian doesn’t know if he misses it or not. It’s taken a lot to get here, but maybe it was just simpler then.

Simpler, _right_ , but it wasn’t as real.

It’s quiet for a moment and then she asks, “Can I be honest with you?”

They’re at a stop sign, and there’s no one else around so he doesn’t hit the gas just yet. His stomach drops as soon as the words are out, and he looks over at her and says, “Yeah. Of course.”

“I’m uncomfortable with the fact that you know about my dad,” she says evenly, though it seems like it takes some effort. She starts the sentence with her eyes on him but they turn away to look forward by the end of it, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.   

“Why?” he asks, trying to keep his voice kind even though he feels wary.

She shrugs, and only a moment later a car pulls up behind him, so he has to keep going through the intersection. He doesn’t like focusing on the road when he wants to be focusing on her, but he keeps his eyes on the lit up street ahead of them and listens as she takes a deep breath and says, “It’s not easy to explain.”

“Try me?”

“It’s like,” she pauses. Everything suddenly seems so fragile again, and Cassian bites the inside of his mouth to keep himself in check. She goes on to say, “Maybe it’s a control thing. It’s like, now that you know, you could--I don’t know. You could tell someone, or--or use it against me. It isn’t mine alone anymore, and that makes me nervous. I’m not used to opening up to people.”

“Jyn,” he starts, but feels too shaky to continue. He was stupid to think things would get better, right? Or maybe it’s that it’s going to get better, it just isn’t going to get any easier. At least she’s being honest with him, even if it’s to imply that she doesn’t trust him. “Jyn, how many people know about your dad?”

“Aside from Saw? Just Baze and Chirrut. They were really close to him, so when he was gone...” she trails off, and her voice still shakes around the words. “I never even told Bodhi. He would ask sometimes, but I would always make up something up, like it was a game or something. I don’t know, Cass. I’d like to think that I’m okay or that I’ve moved on, but whenever it comes up I feel like...like I can’t function.”

“And all those times I asked you about him,” he infers, and shakes his head to himself. “What happens if someone like Bodhi knows about it, Jyn? What changes?”

She’s quiet for a long moment, and Cassian lets her be. He drives in and out of the light, and everything feels colder and colder. Life’s changing and it’s uncomfortable in a way that Cassian hates, but knows that he needs. Jyn did tell him about her dad. She did open up to him, so that can’t be anything bad. She’s trying, and Cassian’s not going to get upset with her when she obviously still has these issues to overcome.

It’s not like he hasn’t been there himself. Even now, thinking back to his birth mother brings a pain he doesn’t think he’ll ever understand. There’s something tangible about being unwanted by a parent, and to a degree Jyn probably feels the exact same way.

 _But she doesn’t know_ , he reminds himself. She has no idea what happened to her father, and maybe there _is_ something worse than being unwanted. There’s no closure here.

“I guess,” she starts, “if everyone knows about it, then it makes it real. Does that make sense? It’s like, no one talks about it or asks about it, so I can almost convince myself it never happened. Plus, no one’s going to try and tell me to find him.”

“Have you thought about it?” he asks.

“Of course I have,” she snaps. She takes a breath and her voice softens when she says, “What happens if I do, though? What if I find him and like your mom, he doesn’t want me? What if he made that choice and doesn’t want to be found?”

“You know that can’t be true,” Cassian says.

“Maybe not, but every other possibility I can think of is infinitely worse.”

Cassian sighs. Maybe it’s better not to know.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m not going to push you, but in my opinion, I think it’s something to consider if you want closure.”

“I know,” she says quietly. It’s all she says.

“And Jyn,” he continues. “You can trust me, I’m not going to go tell anyone about it. That’s not why I’m here with you. And I won’t use your dad against you even though, if you remember, that’s exactly what you did to me.”

He shouldn’t have said it. He shouldn’t have brought it up but it was _right there_. The silence is palpable between them, and Cassian has a sick, ugly feeling sink into his stomach.

“God,” she chokes out eventually. “It is, isn’t it? How are you okay with it?”

“Because it’s not like that, Jyn,” he says, shaking his head. They’re almost at her street now and he can’t let this be the end their conversation, he can’t leave it like this. He grips the wheel a little tighter and continues, “It’s not...simple. I can’t keep you at a distance because you said one hurtful thing. Yeah, it sucked, and yeah, I was worried that it’d be the end of us, but...I guess what I’m trying to say is that I think I’m starting to understand.”

“And what is it that you understand?” she asks, some sort of defeated hostility coloring her words. Back and forth, this conversation keeps drawing in and out. It’s somewhere between a fight and a confession, like maybe love could be hiding behind these words but it’s hard to see clearly.

“That you’re good at telling yourself what you want, whether or not it’s true.”

They pull up at her house, and Jyn doesn’t say anything at first. They sit in the driveway for a long moment before her shoulders relax a little and she angles herself towards him. “Like how I said I didn’t want to date you and one hundred percent did not follow through.”

“Well at least you can admit it,” he says lightly, which earns a smile.

“I’m sorry,” she settles on, her smile falling into something much more serious. Cassian tries to interrupt her but she goes on to say, “I mean it, Cass. It wasn’t fair to you--any of it. You were right, back when we had that fight. I had myself thoroughly convinced that nothing was happening between us, and I was vicious in defending it. Honestly, in a way I was leading you on, even if it was something I wanted, too. You were right, and I’m really sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

And Cassian...doesn’t know what to say. _I forgive you_ feels too heavy, and _it’s okay_ doesn’t feel like enough. He unwinds his fingers from the wheel, letting them fall into his lap, and lets his gaze settle somewhere between the radio and the gear stick. Jyn stays quiet next to him but it’s not uncomfortable.

“I think,” he finally starts, “that there’s a lot of hope for us. You know, just being able to talk like this says that something good will come out of this, and we’ll be better equipped to handle things that come up in the future.”

“You think we have a future?” she asks, but it’s not unkind or that she thinks him foolish, but rather there’s some sense of optimism in her voice.

“I do,” he says, and hesitates before he asks, “Do you?”

She purses her lips for a moment before looking over at him, raising a brow. When she reaches over he threads his fingers through hers and she squeezes tightly. Once, twice, three times. His brows come together in confusion and she shakes her head with a smile. She says, “You know, when you dropped me off this morning I had such a good feeling about all of it, but as the day went on it felt bigger and too intense and I didn’t want to think about it anymore.”

She looks at him, and Cassian looks at her. It’s as honest as it can be.

“But whenever I’m with you,” she continues, “it’s not like that. So yeah, I do.”

Cassian’s stomach shifts with her words, something excited and wonderful stirs within him and he presses his lips into a smile. “You and me, huh?”

“You and me,” she confirms. “And just for the record, if I had a time machine, I’d go right back to that Christmas tree farm and tell myself not to be an idiot.”

“I know it,” he says with a tired smile. “For the record, I’d go back to our first date.”

“First date?” she questions. “Are you talking about Rosefield? Because that wasn’t a date and you got wicked sick after it.”

He shakes his head, the memory is still so vivid in his mind. “It was definitely a date, and it was definitely worth getting sick.”

His words break off with a yawn and Jyn grins at him. “Whatever you say, sleepy boy. Go home and get some rest, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay,” he says, watching her put her hand on the door handle. She pauses, and he looks up to meet her gaze and smiles softly. “What a day, huh?”

She laughs. “Yeah. What a day. Bye, Cass.”

He watches her pick up her bag and throw her scarf loosely around her neck. She gets out of the car and her figure shifts in and out of the headlights before heading up the front steps. And Cassian, no matter how familiar this has become, still feels the pull to go after her.

So this time he does.

He doesn’t even think about it, he just unbuckles his seatbelt and scrambles out of the car. She looks back at the sound of his car door closing and stays where she is. He moves quickly towards her, meeting her on the front step, closer and closer until he can make out all her features under the front porch light, and he asks, “Hey, what about a real date? You and me, this weekend?”

She watches him for a half second but it feels like forever. Her eyes don’t give her away but the edges of her lips tip up into a smile before she says, “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Good,” he says, and he can’t help but laugh a little, reaching forward to pull her into a hug. He wraps his arms around her tight, burying his face against the warm skin of her neck, and takes just a second to savor the feeling before pulling away. “I’ll text you?”

She nods, and leans up to press a quick kiss against his lips, pulling away with a smile that’s almost shy-- _hidden_. Cassian is suddenly very interested in getting to know this side of Jyn, the one that’s open and willing to be in a relationship with him.

It feels like a beginning. It feels like something good, and as Cassian watches her slip behind that blue door, he misses her instantly.

\--

Thursday afternoon finds Cassian groaning audibly at his political science book several times--he’s lost count at this point--and letting his eyes stare off into the living room, vacant.

He’s completely lost, and uncomprehending of what he’s supposed to be studying because there’s a ton of other, more important things to think about. Like for instance, the fact that he and Jyn made plans for a date on Saturday: that takes precedence. He texted her as soon as he got home last night, asking when she was free and what she would like to do. And, well, the answer was _Saturday night_ and _I don’t know, up to you_.

Which has been giving him a lot to think about in place of studying for his final tomorrow. He knows he needs to get this right--the two of them--he can’t screw this up when he’s already been given so many chances at it.

He glances down at his book again, groaning again, feeling bad for himself again.

“You know, you’d get more studying done if you would just read the material instead of making noises at it,” Bodhi mutters from where he’s sitting in the chair next to him. Cassian’s sprawled out on the couch with his textbook open, and he looks down at his notebooks with his dumb doodles and pens and highlighters--all of it to appear as though he’s studying. He makes a face at Bodhi.

“Why would they give us a whole day to study anyway?” he asks. “It’s like they’re trying to guilt me into it when I could procrastinate until the last minute instead.”

Bodhi half laughs, probably because he’s actually a good student who pays attention and hardly needs to review in the first place. “Who’s trying to guilt you, Cass?”

He shrugs. “The man.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Bodhi says, but he’s smiling to himself as he turns back to the page he’s on. Cassian can tell when he starts reading again because his eyes scan the page back and forth in a way that Cassian can’t seem to make himself do today. He considers, then, telling Bodhi about Jyn. He considers telling him everything from their fight to the way they made up and finding out what he thinks of it all. He could tell him about his nerves, get some reassurance that there’s nothing to worry about with Jyn, or maybe he could ask him what would be a good idea for their date Saturday night.

In the end he doesn’t say anything at all, and a few days from now he’ll wonder if everything could’ve been different if he had.

\--

Friday passes, Cassian takes his test, and all of it feels normal in a way that he’s comfortable with. The panic doesn’t fully set in until Saturday afternoon.

He’s in his room getting ready for tonight when he realizes that this is a real life, actual date with Jyn Erso. This is a girl that he’s been so comfortable around and has technically been dating for a while, but she still somehow has the power to make him incredibly and inexplicably nervous.

It’s not a fun feeling.

The problem is, he’s starting to second guess his plans. A huge part of him knows that it won’t really matter to Jyn, and it’s literally just going to Wilmington to see their Christmas lights and get some dinner, but he can’t shake the idea that she’ll be disappointed or uninterested or wish that he had better ideas.

It’d be easier if she hadn’t already planned most of their “dates”. She’s so creative and interesting and thinks of things in ways that Cassian just doesn’t. Even that first night, the click and flash of the disposable camera still sits in his mind as one of the most bizarre and real moments of his life.

To be fair, he was drunk, but still. This is a real date with real expectations and real consequences if it doesn’t go well. Cassian doesn’t know why it wouldn’t go well, considering the way they are when they’re together, and how much they’ve done together. The reality of dating Jyn, however, is much different than the idea of it.

Even Bodhi gives him a funny look when he comes inside after going out to warm up his car. Cassian shakes his coat off his shoulders, ignoring the way his hands fumble with it, and Bodhi watches him from the kitchen. He stirs his tea before narrowing his eyes at Cassian.

“You okay, man?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Cassian answers automatically, because as nervous as he is, the last thing he wants to do is admit it.

Bodhi just raises his brows as if he doesn’t believe him, but leaves him alone once he’s satisfied with his tea. Cassian forces himself to take a deep breath and checks the time before figuring it’d be better to be a little early than sit around the apartment anxiously.

So that’s how he winds up waiting outside of Jyn’s house for fifteen minutes. It’s past five thirty--the time they agreed on--and Cassian’s nerves are getting worse each minute that the front door stays closed.

He’s never had to let her know he’s here.

He texted her after five minutes, but she hasn’t replied. He waits another few minutes before realizing he’s going to have to go up to the door. He takes a deep breath, unbuckles his seat belt, and gets out of the car, shaking off the bitter cold as he walks up the front porch steps. It’s not until he reaches for the doorbell that he hears raised voices.

It doesn’t take long to figure out that it’s Kathy and Jyn. His hand drops to his side--he doesn’t know what to do. He hates the idea of interrupting them, but at the same time he figures Jyn might need a way out, especially if she doesn’t know she’s late.

He rings the doorbell.

The voices quiet at first but pick up again, eventually getting louder to the point where Cassian realizes they’re both coming _towards_ the door. For one thing, his nerves have completely disappeared, but for another, they’re replaced by dread.

Jyn opens the door and pulls it shut behind her immediately, but not before Cassian catches a glimpse of Kathy with her arms crossed, standing in the bright, airy hallway that Cassian’s only seen once before.

He might prefer the discomfort he experienced that day over this, to be honest.

On the other hand, Jyn’s brows are pulled together and her arms are crossed over her chest as well. In what little light he can see by, her eyes are watery and her lips are parted, something unhappy sitting on her features and Cassian almost can’t take it.

“Hey,” he says, and reaches out, his hand finding her upper arm. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she answers in a quiet voice, and clears her throat, looking over at the car. “Just--can we get out of here?”

The dread that was sitting in his stomach sinks even further down, uncomfortable and unclear on what’s really happening but still wanting to make it better. He drops his arm and nods, eventually finding his voice to say, “Yeah. Of course.”

They walk side by side until they reach the car and this time Cassian walks around to open the door for her. She looks at him in confusion but doesn’t say anything, ducking her head as she gets in. Cassian takes a deep breath as he walks around to his side, not really knowing what to do or say here. All he _can_ do is drive, so he’ll drive.

They back out in silence, they move through Whitebridge in silence, and Cassian’s following the original plan but he doesn’t know if she’s still up for it. It doesn’t seem right to ask at first, not with her head bent towards the window with a hand against her brow, covering her eyes.

She stays like that for a long while, until he hears her sniffle and catches her in his peripheral, shifting until she’s at least sitting up straighter. She sighs, and says, “So. I got in a fight with my aunt.”

Cassian almost laughs at that, but he doesn’t feel right about it until Jyn does. It escapes her mouth in a rush, just a brief sound acknowledging how obvious her statement was.

“What happened?” he asks.

“She’s...I don’t know. I think she had a bad day, and it’s easy for her to take it out on me. I always take the bait. Stupid.”

Cassian just glances over at her, not really understanding but relieved that she’s able to talk about it. She looks back just before he turns his attention towards the road again, and all he catches is the emptiness of her eyes, the way the color always seems to go missing in the dark. She presses her lips together before she sighs again, and this time she says, “I know she blames me for having to move here, like somehow it’s my fault that no one seems to want to take care of me. Maybe it is...I just. She’s probably the last person I should be fighting with, but I don’t want her to be right about me, you know?”

“She isn’t."

“Cassian, you don’t even know what she’d said.”

“Well it can’t be good,” he argues. “So it can’t be true.”

“That’s too...black and white. I mean, yeah, obviously she can’t be completely right, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t based off of truth. And even then, where do I draw the line in deciding what’s right and wrong? Should I have the freedom to pick and choose what to believe about myself if someone’s telling me otherwise?”

Cassian blinks away oncoming headlights from the other lane, trying to watch the yellow line in the middle of the road--solid--and figure out what’s happening here--shaken and a little unsteady. He glances over at Jyn, whose mouth is pulled into a tight line, and wonders if this is what a relationship between them would really be like.

“It’s dangerous to form your opinion of yourself based on one person--good or bad. What exactly did she say, Jyn?”

Jyn glances over at him once, twice, and the second time she lingers on him but eventually turns her attention back to the road. “Um. She thinks I’m taking advantage of her by not going to school. Or that I’m not ambitious enough and that I’ll work a part time job for the rest of my life. Basically how lazy and pathetic I am and that the worst part is how I’m not even trying.”

“And you think she’s right?”

She makes a noise, like she’s contemplating it even though she knows her answer. “I don’t think she’s completely wrong, but when she brings it up I just--lose it. She tells me these things like they’re just facts and I need to accept them.”

“You’re not lazy,” he states, because that’s something he knows, and that’s the only clear answer he can give. “You worked an entire shift after we drove home from Maine last month. I didn’t even go to class.”

“I’m a cashier, Cass.”

“So? If going to school was important to you, you’d do something about it. Frankly, you’re in a much better position in life than I am.”

“You’re going to get a legit job out of it, though.”

“And I’m going to hate every second of it,” he says, trying not to think about his final on Monday. “You know how much I hate accounting. It’s the worst. Your future is wide open, Jyn. You just gotta figure out what you want to do, first. That doesn’t mean you’re taking advantage of your aunt or that you’re lazy. You’re twenty years old, you don’t have to know exactly what you want in life.”

“But what if I wanted to go to school?” she asks.

“Do you?” he returns, looking over at her.

“I don’t know,” she answers, and her brows turn up at the center, getting lost in her newly trimmed bangs. “I’ve been thinking about it lately.”

“Really? Where would you want to go?”

“I don’t know,” she says again. “I could go anywhere. Probably WSU, though.”

“You don’t have to,” he offers, even though he likes the thought of it.

“For all that I talk about getting away from here, I don’t know if I could fully move away. I still want to travel, but living somewhere else?”

“Two places at once,” Cassian says, remembering their conversation from Thanksgiving weekend.

“Exactly. But can you imagine if we took a class together?”

Cassian laughs aloud, just a sharp sound, and shakes his head. “No way, you’d distract me too much. I’m already a terrible student.”

“You mean I would _help_ you.”

“Do you not remember the part where I ruined Baze and I’s semester-long project?”

“Yeah, but...” and she doesn’t continue that trail of thought, which is probably for the best. “I’m getting ahead of myself, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Either way, you know I’m here for you.”

“I do,” she confirms, and her hand reaches over and brushes against his forearm. “I just hate that this all happened right before our date. Where are we even going, anyway?”

“Wilmington, and we’re almost there,” he answers, feeling strangely awkward and self conscious about telling her. “Tonight’s the first night that they’re officially lighting up the downtown for Christmas.”

“Fun,” she says, and her lips pull up into a smile but she doesn’t say anything after that. Neither of them do. It’s quiet for a few anxious minutes, because Jyn seems to be lost in thought and Cassian doesn’t know what to talk about. He feels like they’ve mostly dissolved the negative energy from Jyn’s aunt, but nothing really replaces it.

Luckily they’re close enough to Wilmington that the awkwardness doesn’t last for very long. Cassian finds a place to park amidst all the cars in the public lot, and they both get out. He finally gets a good look at Jyn. Her hair is pulled half up, leaving the rest to brush against her shoulders in soft waves, and her makeup--usually minimal--is noticeable as she looks over at him.

“You look beautiful,” he says, forcing himself to ignore his instincts--what’s telling him to act like he normally would as her friend. He needs to treat this like a date, and so he holds out his hands towards her.

But funnily enough, as she takes it in hers, he realizes that this isn’t something unusual for them. They did this all the time, so why should it feel different now?

“Thank you,” she says quietly, but she smiles at him easily. They make their way up to the main area where a huge mass of people walk up and down both sides of the street. All of the shops are decorated for Christmas, with displays in the windows and garland around their door frames. Lights wrap neatly around the trees that line the sidewalk, and there are huge red bows on each streetlamp. It’s expertly put together, perfect and bright and festive.

Jyn squeezes his hand tightly and says, “It looks like something out of a movie.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. They join the crowd on the right side of the street, walking at a slower pace as everyone shuffles to see the displays in the windows. There are figures of Santa and Rudolph, and the toy store on the corner has huge collection of dollhouses set next to each other as though it’s a little town, each decorated similarly to the stores themselves.

And as lovely as it is, Cassian can’t shake the feeling that he has to do or say something, as if it’s not enough to simply be here with Jyn. The fact that this is a date...there are different expectations, aren’t there? It should be romantic where it was familiar before. Something needs to be different.

He doesn’t really know what, though, so Cassian holds her hand and pretends not to be relieved when she lets go to go inside the restaurant. It’s a quaint little place, busy because of all the people in town, but he at least had the sense to make a reservation.

They’re quickly led to a table upstairs in the corner by a window, which has a view of the street below them. Cassian watches Jyn pull off her coat, revealing a black, form fitting sweater that cuts down low in the front. It shows off a lot of smooth, pale skin, and he has to forcibly stop himself from staring. She’s absolutely gorgeous tonight, but it’s the whole picture. From the way her dark lashes sweep her cheeks as she turns her eyes down, to the curve of her lips lined in a muted, dark lipstick. He feels both lucky and foolish, because here his with Jyn, and yet he knows he’s stuck inside his head.

Why does he have to compare before and after, or then and now? What is the difference, and why can’t he just act the same?

The answer: it’s not the same, and it never will be again.

So Cassian focuses on her as she takes the seat across from him, and he smiles as though it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You really do look beautiful tonight.”

Her answering smile is all he gets back, and she tips her head down to look at the menu set before her. Cassian watches her for a second longer before awkwardly picking up his own. He feels like he’s not even reading it, flipping through the first two pages without comprehending anything he sees. He’s not even hungry, it’s just the right thing to do.

“Have you been here before?” Jyn asks, glancing up at him.

Cassian shakes his head. “No, I saw it on Yelp. The reviews looked...good.”

Truthfully, he’s a little embarrassed by how much time he spent scrolling through reviews of each restaurant, deciding on which one would be best. He doesn’t really want to admit it, so they’re left with the quiet as other couples and families around them fill the whole room with a low and alive background noise.

Finally, the waitress comes over and takes their order, but once she leaves this is how it goes: Jyn and Cassian continue to sit across from each other at a table and don’t say a word. Either lost in their own heads or reluctant to bring up any topic of conversation, what normally comes easiest to them breaks apart at the hint of something abnormal, and Cassian hates it.

“I’m sorry,” Jyn says after a while. She’s looking at her hands but her gaze reaches up to meet his. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date, I feel like I’m being super awkward.”

He can tell immediately that she’s giving him an out. She’s giving him a way to say, _yes it is awkward_ , laugh it off, and go back to normal. But to do that is to admit that something is wrong with tonight, and in turn, something is wrong with them dating. To admit that and go back to normal would mean going back to the way things were, and he can’t do that.

If they want to date, they can’t be friends again, right? That’s what got them into this whole mess in the first place.

“You’re fine,” he says instead. _You’re fine,_ and it’s probably the truth but it feels like a lie. It’s Cassian that’s approaching this wrong. It’s Cassian that doesn’t know where to draw the line between the past and the present.

It’s Cassian that’s pulling this apart before they even have the chance to make anything out of it, and it’s not a good feeling.

\--

They do, however, manage to pull enough of a conversation together for the rest of dinner. They stumble along, talking about the decorations they saw on the street and other stupid, little stuff, but it passes between them all the same and that’s probably the most Cassian can ask for in this situation.

What he didn’t ask for: the traces of doubt that shift under the surface. The nerves that rise up, look at him, and say _you were never meant to date her, you’re going to ruin your friendship entirely._

He does his best to ignore this voice, focusing on eating and listening to Jyn as she seems infinitely more comfortable talking than he does. That’s not saying much, but they finish and pay and on their way out, for whatever reason, Cassian asks, “Have you talked to Leia recently?”

“Yeah,” Jyn says, still wrapping her scarf around her neck as they step into the cold night air. “I called her Thursday night and we talked for like, two hours.”

“Did you make up?” he asks as he takes her hand again, still feeling weird about it but ignoring it altogether.

“Yeah,” she answers, and she squeezes his hand a little tighter as she half slips on an icy patch on the sidewalk. Her whole figure shifts backwards and there’s a second, a breathless laugh, and then, “The real question is when are _you_ going to make up with her?”

He winces. “She told you about that?”

“We might’ve had a short conversation about you.”

Cassian shakes his head to himself. “It was...I don’t know. I need to talk to her.”

“Yeah, you do. I got the feeling that she thinks you hate her or something.”

“I don’t,” he says quickly.

“Well I figured that, but it’s easy to interpret things to align with what you’re afraid of.”

“What?”

She makes a small sound, but holds off on saying anything for a second, like she’s really thinking about it, or maybe she doesn’t _want_ to say it. “I’m just saying, if you’re worried about something happening, you might think it’s happening even if it isn’t. You know how you can read into something, but then be completely wrong about it? It’s an easy place to get to in your mind.”

“Yeah,” he says evenly, because he understands that, he does. But-- “I highly doubt Leia’s worried about _my_ opinion of her.”

“Well, I mean...It’s different. You know, you’re her friend and she cares about you. Obviously it’s a conversation the two of you need to have.”

“For sure,” he says. “We have our final on Monday, I’m gonna try and talk to her after.”

“Good.”

They keep walking, but this time Cassian leads them down one of the side streets that’s apart of the display. It’s a neighborhood that loops around the main road, but still as perfectly put together. There are more personal touches here, like candles in the windows, and icicles made of lights hanging from the roofs. The street lamps are done up the same, and a lot of trees are expertly wrapped in lights as well. Jyn was right when she said it looks like something out of a movie.

It happens when she’s telling him about a customer at work this morning. She half slips again on the ice, reaching over to steady herself against Cassian, who tilts to the side with her added weight. She laughs when she doesn’t fall, but as she steadies herself back against the pavement, her phone slips out of her pocket and lands on the ground with a _smack_.

She makes a noise of despair, letting go of Cassian to bend down and grab it. Cassian watches with anxiety tightening his expression, which gets worse when she picks it up and says, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Let me see,” he says, and when Jyn holds it up for him to see, the entire screen is cracked, starting at the top left corner and stretching down across the rest of the face of the phone. “Does it still work?” he asks.

She flips it around to face her again, spending a moment pressing the home button a few times and then trying the lock button before shaking her head and taking a deep breath. “Of course not, why would it? Today just...sucks.”

She looks up at him sharply before shaking her head again. “I don’t mean--this. Tonight. You and me. Just--you know.”

But Cassian does know. He knows this is no good.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, and reaches over to put a hand on her shoulder--just to touch her, just to remember this even if it isn’t what either of them expected, or maybe even wanted. He lets go. “Will you get it fixed, or do you think you’ll replace it?”

“I don’t know,” she answers, putting it back into her pocket. They both start walking again, some silent, mutual agreement to head back to the car. “I still have a year until I can upgrade, so I guess I’ll bring it in and see what they can do.”

Cassian hums under his breath, which fans out in front of him as the temperature drops. “I’m sorry,” he says, because he is sorry, and because he wished something else could’ve happened tonight. Something better.

“It’s my fault,” Jyn says, and she looks over at him--she looks up at him with such meaning in her eyes that Cassian wonders what she’s really referring to.

“I don't know if it’s anyone’s fault,” he says back. It feels like the right thing to say. “It’s just something that happened.”

She says, “I guess,” but she reaches over to take his hand again, and if that doesn’t give him the smallest sense of hope when it feels like it’s all falling away...

They make it back to the car without further incident. Cassian opens the door for her again and this time she gives him a grateful smile before ducking her head as she gets in. She shuts it behind her and he takes a moment to breathe. The cold air feels sharp in his lungs but it helps him clear his head a little, and he makes his way back around to his side of the car.

“Are you okay?” Jyn asks him once he’s got his seatbelt on.

He lifts his brows, looking over at her in confusion. “Me? I’m fine.”

Which--yeah. Absolutely. He’s _fine_.

“Okay,” she says, but offers no explanation. Cassian’s not really in the mood to ask for one, so they drive home with Christmas music playing quietly between them, with all the lights of the houses blinking in and out of focus, and with Jyn’s hands idly playing with the ends of her scarf.

They pull up to her house less than fifteen minutes later. Cassian should’ve thought of something to say on the way home, but as it is, he looks over at her in the dark. He can’t help but feel like he’s failed the both of them.

“I was gonna ask you to text me, but...” Jyn says, and looks down at her empty hands.

Cassian breathes out a sound that could be a laugh but doesn’t seem quite right. “Are you working this week? I could come see you sometime before I go home.”

“Oh yeah,” she says, but they haven’t had this conversation, have they? “When do you leave?”

“Thursday,” he answers. “Until the 28th, I think.”

“That’s--that’s a long time.”

Cassian just nods.

Jyn sighs. “I’ll see what I can do about my phone, but I’m working my usual hours this week, so...”

“Okay,” he says, and looks back at her. She already has her hand on the door handle but she’s watching him closely. This doesn’t feel right. This isn’t how he wanted this night to go, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. He can feel the muscles in his hands tense and relax, and he says, “Come here.”

She comes closer, close enough that Cassian can close the distance between them. Their lips press against each other softly, chastely, and pull away. It’s both everything and nothing. It’s soft and simple, but not enough--somehow it captures the night perfectly.

“Goodnight, Cass,” she says.

Inexplicably, he feels this pit open up inside him, drowning him in this ugly, empty feeling. It can’t be explained, it can’t be said aloud. He watches her eyes, and her hand reaches for the door again, and he holds himself together enough to say, “Goodnight, Jyn.”

He watches her long enough to see her slip behind that yellow door once again.

He watches her long enough to know that something went very, very wrong tonight.

\--

Cassian can’t face the night alone. That’s a fact. He can’t be left alone with his thoughts and sabotage everything more than he already has.

Cassian gets back to the apartment, stares at his closed door, and takes a few steps out of his way to knock on Bodhi’s.

“Come in,” he hears Bodhi say, and when Cassian opens the door it’s to a dark room. Bodhi’s in his bed, the only thing lighting him up is his phone held in front of him, the screen bright and vivid as it reaches up to touch his skin. The rest of the room sinks into shadows, but i’s quiet and dark, and so Cassian sinks into it as well. He closes the door behind him and for a moment he leans back against it.

“Can I?” he asks, even though he doesn’t really know what he’s asking for. He just doesn’t want to be alone right now, doesn’t want to think right now, doesn’t want to feel real right now. All this effort--all these emotions, the fight he had with Jyn--was it all for nothing?

But Bodhi says, “Yeah, of course,” before these thoughts can draw on, and Cassian realizes that Bodhi probably doesn’t know what he’s asking for, either. He’s just willing to do whatever and somehow that makes Cassian feel worse.

All this time, with all his focus staying so close to Jyn--he’s drifted from him.

So Cassian draws closer, feeling his way forward in the dark, and pulls up the covers on the other side of Bodhi’s bed and gets in. Bodhi rolls over to face him, and like this they aren’t touching, but it almost feels like they are. It’s dark, but Cassian’s starting to make out the shapes of his face--the curve of his brow, the straight line of his nose, the sheen of his eyes that are fixed on Cassian’s. It all adds up to the feel of Bodhi--not him entirely but enough pieces to put together the full picture, enough to sit back and say _yes, that’s him_.

“I’m sorry,” Cassian mumbles, his voice barely louder than a whisper. It doesn’t need to be.

“What for, Cass?” Bodhi asks in return, his voice just as soft.

“I don’t know,” he answers, letting his eyes skip over Bodhi to trace up the wall and to the ceiling, which is too dark to see. He stays there, letting his mind ease into it, and says, “I’ve been distant. I--I don’t...It’s not like it was in September or October. Nothing is. This whole town feels like it’s changed and I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“Hey,” Bodhi says, and he reaches over. He erases this distance between them and places his hand on Cassian’s shoulder, just for the briefest of moments, and says, “You’re adjusting. Everything was new back then, it couldn’t stay the same.”

“It would be so much easier if it could,” Cassian answers, and he considers telling Bodhi about tonight but it feels like too much. He just wants this: to be close like this, to feel like something is good and whole and _here_.

“I know,” Bodhi says even quieter. He hesitates before he adds, “Whatever happened tonight, it’s okay. Whatever happened...it’ll turn around. Everything’s going to be so good for you.”

Of course Bodhi can see right through him. He closes his eyes when he says it, and maybe Bodhi doesn’t know the details, but he’s blindly giving Cassian this thread of hope and he’ll take it every single time.

“You’re the best,” he murmurs, taking it and holding on with everything he has.

Yeah, he takes it and he inches a little close to Bodhi, listening to the steady sound of his breathing until he falls asleep.

It’s not enough, but it’s something.

\--

Despite their fight, Leia sits next to Cassian for their final, so he takes that as a good sign. Their professor is already handing out the tests--these big packets of paper stapled together--so he only has a second to lean over and ask, “Can we talk after?”

Her expression is wary, but she nods as the test gets passed to her, and at that point Cassian has to turn his attention from her and to a test he barely studied for, but will surely impact his future.

No big deal.

He goes through question after question, his wrist gets tired from all the writing, and his head feels too full of numbers and definitions he’s supposed to know to really think clearly. Leia, of course, finishes well ahead of him, but as she passes on her way to the door, she gives him a look he takes to mean that she’ll be waiting.

And if he rushes through the last page and a half--well, that has to be okay.

Honestly, he thought it would feel better to walk out of these classrooms knowing that he’ll never have to sit through these classes ever again, but mostly he feels exhausted. Mostly he wants to go home, lay down, and come back when he feels ready to deal with all of it. That’s...probably not going to happen, though, so he passes in a test he has no confidence in, and walks out the door with little more than the hope he’ll do better next semester.

Leia sits on the bench outside, and she looks up at the sound of him entering the hallway. There was another time that they did this, there was a time with a different test and a different topic of conversation, and he misses that a little bit. _I’m sorry_ has been used too many times lately and he’s hoping this one’ll still mean something.

“Hey,” he says once the door closes behind him.

Leia stands up, and she doesn’t come any closer but she doesn't look upset. “Hey.”

“Do you want to go to the Juice Box?”

She nods--slowly, but she nods all the same. They descend the stairs together, stepping outside into the freezing, frigid afternoon.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Cassian says as soon as they’re out of the building. Leia looks up at him with a look of confusion before tilting her head to the side.

“Why?” she asks.

“Um, for storming off on you, for not listening to you, but mostly for calling you a gossip and telling you this town sucks.”

From his peripheral he can see her smirk, and she seems to take her time to think about her response, leaving him to angle his head down towards her and watch press her lips together. The bare, ash gray trees behind her have snow painted up the sides of their trunks, and they outline her profile perfectly, from the slope of her nose to the way her braids wrap neatly around her head.

Finally, she says, “I appreciate that, Cass, but I owe you an apology too. I heard those things about you and Jyn and I was worried, but I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. You didn’t want to talk about it and I didn’t respect that.”

“Well I appreciate that,” he says in return, scrunching up his face against the cold. “Look at us, having responsible conversations and getting over our problems like adults.”

“Amazing,” she comments, and she looks up at him with a grin. “So how are you doing?”

That shouldn’t be a loaded question, but somehow it is. Cassian kind of shrugs, leaving it at that for a moment before figuring it might do him some good to put it down in words. “Okay, I guess. I think a lot of things are changing right now and it’s not as easy to deal with as I thought it would be.”

“Vague, but I’ll take it,” she says, and shakes her head. “Is there a way out or are you stuck?”

For some reason this makes him laugh, the cold air too sharp in his lungs but he takes it in anyway. “What?”

Leia smiles, bumping her shoulder against his, and explains, “I meant, change happens all the time, but you don’t always have a way to get to the point where everything feels normal again. When Han and I started dating, everything felt like it’d been tilted off its axis, you know? We’ve been friends our whole lives and changing that made me feel out of place, but never stuck. Sure, it’s only been a little over two weeks, but it’s already starting to feel normal.”

Amazing, how easily Leia can see through him. There’s just one question that stays on his mind--

“How do you date a friend?” he asks, as vulnerable as he can be.

Leia is quiet for a long moment before she says, “To be honest with you, Cass, I don’t think you and Jyn were ever really friends.”

And huh. That’s...something.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

She looks at him, unimpressed, and he goes ahead of her to open the door to the Juice Box. Cassian hasn’t actually been here since the last time they came, but nothing has changed since then except for a few Christmas decorations here and there.

They walk towards the counter, joining the long line, and Leia says, “I think you’re going to have to work this one out on your own, Cass.”

“Gee thanks,” he mutters. “I’ve been thinking too much as it is.”

She lifts a brow. “Then maybe you should stop.”

“Brilliant.” He knocks his shoulder against hers, and asks, “Can I buy your drink for you?”

“Sure,” she agrees after a moment, sighing to herself before grinning up at him. Cassian just knocks his shoulder against hers again, grateful that this is something he can have back.

\--

He doesn’t see Jyn again until Wednesday night, but despite Leia’s advice he thinks about her a lot over the days in between. He thinks about their disaster of a first date, and _I don’t think you and Jyn were ever really friends_ , and then he thinks about finals and it’s enough to make him feel a little crazy.

It wouldn’t be an issue if their date hadn’t felt so _wrong_. It felt impossible and uncomfortable, and like they were trying to force something that shouldn’t be happening. It’s hard to have confidence moving forward after that.

But still, he’s driving home Wednesday night after his last final, and it's dark but somehow he sees her walking on the sidewalk.

Or maybe it's just that the shape of her is so familiar, something he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt. Jyn Erso: five foot something, bulky plaid wool coat, walking with long, determined strides.

He doesn't even think about driving past her.

Pulling the car over, Cassian sits under the glow of a short streetlamp, and the light is gold and unwavering on this December night. He can see her breath and he can see when she recognizes his car, glancing at him through the window with a half smile, half confused expression. Cassian rolls down the window and leans over the center console as she approaches.

“You look familiar,” he says.

"Is that what you say to all the girls?" she returns, leaning down into the open space where the window was, and all the cold comes in with her.

“Just the one,” he says. “I met her on Halloween, and nothing’s been the same since.”

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“I’ll tell you if you get in the car, it’s freezing out.”

“Such a baby,” she mutters, but she gets in anyway. Cassian rolls up the window the second she closes the door behind her, watching her profile in his peripheral as the glass shuts out the cold and she clicks her seatbelt on. “So what’s this girl like, then?” she asks.

Cassian pulls back onto the road, driving down the main street towards Jyn’s house. “Well, she’s funny, you know? She’s always making me laugh. She’s sweet, too, but she pretends like she’s not.”

“I’m not,” she insists, her voice just a murmur, but when he looks over at her she’s watching him with amusement.

“And she always has these crazy ideas,” he continues. “I don’t know how her mind works, but I’m grateful for it. Otherwise we might not have gotten to know each other.”

She tilts her head slightly. “Are you referring to Halloween?”

Cassian can’t help the grin that pulls at his lips, but he tries anyway. His voice comes out soft as he says, “Yeah. If you--she--hadn’t suggested we leave the party, who knows what would’ve happened...”

“Then I’m glad she did,” she says, and maybe it’s funny because they don’t always acknowledge how all of this happened. Sure, they have the pictures, but Cassian can’t think of a time where they’ve talked about what might’ve been had she never gotten them out of there...

Or maybe they would’ve met anyway. Maybe it was inevitable the second he moved to Whitebridge.

“Do you want to go for a drive?” he asks as they approach the turn for her street. He feels like they need extra time, especially considering that they haven’t been able to talk at all since Saturday. With finals and the semester ending, he hasn’t had the time to go see her during the day, and now that he’s with her...he’s not ready for it to end.

“Sure,” she says, and pulls at one end of her scarf until the whole thing sits in her lap.

Cassian focuses on the road as he prepares himself for what they need to talk about. It feels almost like a confession, something to be ashamed of but necessary to get off of his chest. It’s something to clear the way forward, and for all that he’s thought about it, all that his focus has shifted in and out of this topic, all that comes out is: “Saturday was terrible.”

There are a million ways he could’ve said that better, but Jyn doesn’t seem upset. She laughs at first, a half-happy sound that borders more on surprise. He can feel the weight of her gaze but doesn’t look away from the road when she says, “It was. I’ve been running it through my head, but it doesn’t make sense to me. Why was it so bad?”

Cassian’s boldness shifts into something a thousand percent more timid, and instead of a real answer, he asks, “Is your phone okay?”

She doesn’t answer at first, and she doesn’t look away from him. Finally she shifts in her seat and says, “No, it’s definitely broken. I haven’t gotten the chance to take it in yet, so we’ll see when I can get a new one.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry,” he says, even though it’s not helpful in the slightest. “But hey--there are two things in the world that will always make me feel better, and that’s drinking tea or going for a drive. I swear, they’d fix anything.”

She makes a short sound that’s almost a laugh but doesn’t quite make it. “What about drinking tea _while_ going for a drive?”

“I can’t remember if I’ve ever done that,” he answers. “But who knows? It might be too powerful.”

“So,” she says when they come to a stoplight. Cassian has their route planned out in his head, ready to loop back around and approach her street from the other end. He glances over at her beneath the red light that passes over the car, and her face has straightened out into something infinitely more serious. “What is there to fix between us?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, and though the words come automatically, it’s as honest as he can be. “Maybe you were right.”

He hears her blow out a long breath. “About what?”

“Us,” he says, focusing on the road and trying to think of a way to explain it. “And how it was easier when we didn’t try to call it anything.”

Something doesn’t feel right about saying it but he can’t take the words back now. His eyes blink back the too bright lights of an oncoming car, and even when they pass he’s still squinting, remembering how it felt the other night, how that chasm that opened between them felt--some sort of line that couldn’t be crossed when it came so naturally before.

 _Before_. What does that even mean? At what point does everything change? They’re still the same people, they’re in the same car, and it’s the same street lamps of the same town that burn against the same blue black night. The changes have been minute, the changes have come slowly but they hit all at once and is that enough to throw everything out of balance?

Cassian doesn’t know. He thinks about what Leia said, and he’s starting to wonder if it doesn’t _need_ to change because how they acted before bordered too close to what they wanted. All of it is mixed up, thrown together, and presented in a way that doesn’t make sense.

He looks over at Jyn. She hasn’t said anything yet but her brows are pulled down at the center and--as though she can feel his gaze--turns her head toward her window. They’re approaching her street again and this time Cassian just pulls over. Once they’re in park the only sound that sits between them is that of the heat at the center console, and Jyn looks up. Her lips part a half second before she asks, “What do you mean?”

“What?”

“What do you mean?” she repeats. “You said it was easier before, what do you mean?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

She laughs with a shred of disbelief. “It’s a simple question, why don’t you want to answer it?”

“Because I figured you would already know?” he ventures. He can feel his hands tighten on the steering wheel--he didn’t even realize he was still holding it--and he forces himself to let go. “You’re the one who insisted that we never called it anything.”

“That’s because I was scared,” she explains. “It’s not the same thing. I didn’t want to call you my boyfriend because that would make it real, and if it was real then I would have to admit that I had feelings for you and that’s hard for me to do. So no, I didn’t want to deal with that and I pushed it aside for too long, but I really doubt that’s how you’re feeling right now.”

Cassian lets all the breath leave his lungs at once. “It’s not,” he confirms. “But Saturday night wasn’t what I thought it would be, and it scared me.”

“Why?” she asks, but it’s just the ghost of the word, not really the whole thing.

“What if I was wrong? What if I was pushing for something that I should’ve left alone?” He knows these aren’t the right things to say even as he says them, but there’s something about confessing one fear that leads to the rest coming out, all at once. “I just--I thought it would be like it was before, when holding your hand felt normal, or when we would talk about whatever stupid thing that came to mind. It’s like, when dating you became intentional everything changed.”

He’d been staring blankly at the dashboard but now that he looks over at her he can tell something’s affected her. She has her elbow propped against the window, and her attention is fixed beyond it, one hand rests at her hairline and she won’t look over at him. He sighs. “I’m not saying this right.”

She doesn’t move, but she asks, “Then what are you saying, Cassian?”

He reaches over to grab her other hand that rests in her lap. Finally, she looks over at him and he can see the worry seeping through her expression, staying the longest in her eyes. He--he messed up. “I don’t know. I want to get this right, Jyn, but I don’t know how. I think I--” _love you_ , is what he almost says, but has enough to sense to hold back.

“What?” she asks, but Cassian shakes his head so this time she asks, “What were you going to say?”

He shakes his head again and he doesn’t think he imagines the disappointment that crowds in her features. Why does he have to make this so difficult? “Jyn,” he starts again, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“And you don’t have a phone.”

“I know,” she says again, this time a little more distressed.

“If we--” he begins, but can’t quite say it right away. He takes a second before he continues, “If we wait until I come home, then maybe we’ll have more clarity on the situation.”

“So--what? Are we taking a break?” Jyn asks, exasperated. Her brows are pushed together and the hand that’s still wrapped around his tightens. And how did this happen? Why does it feel like he’s the one slipping out of her reach?

“No,” he says firmly. “Just...what else can we do?”

“Nothing, I guess,” she says, and she closes her eyes as she sighs. When she opens them she looks over at him, smiling in a way that isn’t happy, but isn’t sad, either. It is what it is. “We’ll wait, then.”

Jyn doesn’t say anything after that, and after a long moment Cassian pulls back onto the road. The shadows appear to loom over the car as they move down the quiet street and turn towards Jyn’s house. How funny it is that this is all so familiar now, that this is something so normal, something that’s been done countless times, and still he doesn’t understand how he feels.

He wonders if that’s just part of it all.

The burden of their conversation manifests itself in his chest, tight and uncomfortable. He still has one of her hands in his but he knows he’s gone about this all wrong. This is just...this is how it has to be. It’s not like he can stay here for Christmas, and he doesn’t want them to force whatever their relationship is just so they can understand it before he leaves.

There’s something about knowing you made the right choice even though it hurts. Cassian blows out a weak breath when he pulls up to her house, and he wants to take it back. He watches the slightest suggestion of the moon’s shape sit at her roof, the sky is empty past her front porch lights, and God--he wants to take it back. His hand is still wrapped up in hers, and when he looks over at her she pulls on it--pulls him closer--and says, “Come here.”

He leans forward at the same time she does, and at first she just lets her forehead tip towards his. She stays there for a long moment, and where they touch feels more intimate than it should. He closes his eyes against the feel of her skin and her hair and when it becomes too much he tilts his head down to meet her lips.

She kisses him back and they’re too close. It’s too tight and desperate, but they both keep at it--slick lips locked against each other, sharing this same space, each movement saying _I’m here, don’t leave me, I don’t know how long this’ll last_.

 _I’m here, I’m here, I’m here_.

Cassian wants to take it all back.

\--

He regrets it the second the front door closes behind her.

\--

Thursday is too bright for how cold it is. Cassian, for whatever reason, waits on the train station platform with Bodhi. The train itself was supposed to arrive three minutes ago, but they’re still sitting side by side on one of the long benches under the overhang, shivering against each other.

It’s too cold to talk, even, so they sit there and their breath freezes right in front of them, visible and alive just for a moment before it disappears completely.

Cassian knows the feeling.

Finally, though, the sound of the train echoes from a distance, and Bodhi gets up, extending the handle on his suitcase. He looks to Cassian, who stands as well, and pulls him into a long hug. Cassian just goes with it, burying his cold nose against the warm skin of Bodhi’s neck, both of them puffy from their coats, and they stay like that until cold air rushes by with the train itself.

“I’ll see you soon,” Bodhi says with a small grin and takes a step back.

“Soon,” Cassian repeats, and watches him join the crowd of people at the entrance to the car. Bodhi slips right through, dragging his suitcase behind him, and when he takes a seat he turns to the window and waves at Cassian.

Cassian waves back.

\--

He walks to the parking lot, and when he’s in his car he half considers trying to find Jyn before he goes home, but he knows it wouldn’t help at all.

So he drives up to Wortham, so much on his mind that he doesn’t really think about any of it. He has his bags in the back seat, simultaneous excited for and dreading the next week and a half. It’s nice to know that he’ll be spending Christmas with his mom, dad, and sister, but at the same time they’re going to be having a lot of family over that are probably going to ask him a lot of questions about his life, and he’s not quite ready for that.

Considering, as well, that he hasn’t gotten the chance to go Christmas shopping yet and has about fifteen people he needs to buy presents for...it’s a little overwhelming.

But he drives up to Wortham and when he pulls up to his house his mom is out front, shoveling the walkway that leads to the front door. She straightens up and waves at him as soon as he pulls into the driveway, a wide smile on her face that’s red from the cold.

And just like that, he’s home.

\--

The first few days pass by very, very slowly. Casey’s still in school and both Mom and Dad have to go to work, so he’s left alone from about eight in the morning until mid afternoon. He gets a lot of Christmas shopping done his first day back, but after that he finds himself sitting around and wasting a lot of time.

Thinking about Jyn has given way to missing her. It’s only been a few days, but her absence feels too big. He doesn’t know why it’s shifted again, or maybe he just wants to believe that when he goes home they’ll get it right.

 _Home_ \--he’s still living in two places at once.

It would be so much easier if it wasn’t a holiday, or even if Jyn still had her phone. As it is, Cassian wraps presents and waits for Casey to get off of the bus each afternoon, and pretends that he’s okay with all of it.

\--

On Sunday Cassian is invited to hang out with a few of his high school friends. Jonah is home from Colorado and wants to get the old group back together, so that’s how he finds himself at Gaten’s Diner with five people he hasn’t seen in a long, long time. It’s a weird feeling, to put together the past and the present, to go over and relive memories from high school, but to also explain their lives now.

Him and Jonah are crowded in on one side of the booth, and he’s listening to Jonah tell a story about his roommate. Jonah’s eyes are bright and his hair’s much longer than Cassian remembered, but he’s still engaging and funny and Cassian gets lost in the conversation for a while until Jonah asks, “So what’s Whitebridge like?”

And Cassian, who has been through so many ups and downs this month in regard to Whitebridge, finds himself smiling.

“It’s interesting,” he says. “The school’s just the same as Montpelier, but the people there...they’re funny. They all know each other so well and know all these things about each other and I thought--you know, I really thought I wanted to be apart of something like that when I first moved there.”

“And that changed?” Jonah suggests.

“I don’t know,” he answers, wrapping his hands around the hot mug of tea in front of him. Their friend Alex is watching him from across the booth, and Cassian goes on to say, “I guess I just didn’t expect to become apart of it, but maybe that’s something I couldn’t help. It’s a strange experience, but I like it for the most part. The people I’ve met there have become some of the best friends I’ve had in such a short amount of time.”

Alex squints her eyes at Cassian, something that used to be so familiar--something he’d see during lunch period or back when they sat next to each other in physics--and she asks, “Are you dating anyone?”

Cassian scrubs his free hand over his face. “I think so?”

“You think?” Jonah asks with a laugh.

“I--we--yeah,” he stutters, laughing at his own stupidity. “We haven’t talked about it, but yeah. I think we’ve been dating for a while.”

And isn’t that the truth of it? It hits him square in the chest--everyone around him continues the conversation but Cassian suddenly feels very far away. _I don’t think you and Jyn were ever really friends_. That was his whole point, wasn’t it? Back at the beginning of the month, when they had their fight, his argument was that they were never just friends.

So why should that have to change?

Cassian swallows the question down with the rest of his tea, trying to stay present as he watches his friends reminisce, but it’s a thought that stays with him for a long, long time.

\--

Monday brings Christmas vacation for Casey, but it also brings most of his family from Connecticut. They arrive just after lunch time, so they’re the only ones home to greet two of his uncles, his aunt, and three cousins.

Not to mention one set of grandparents, who will be coming later that night.

The whole house is a mess of people and air mattresses and by the time everyone is home Cassian starts to feel a little claustrophobic. He hadn’t realized how simple life was with just him and Bodhi back in Whitebridge. How quiet--how peaceful. Now he can’t go to the bathroom without having to wait for someone to leave or someone knocking on the door.

The night before Christmas Eve, Mom has to run to the store to pick up something for dinner, and Cassian offers to go with her just to catch a moment outside of the house. She plays Christmas music in the car and it’s the first time in a while that he hasn’t had to drive himself, so it’s nice to sit back and look at all the houses lit up and decorated like Christmas cards.

She reaches over to turn down the radio, though, when they’re stopped at a red light. She looks over at him, her short hair still curls neatly under her chin and catches all the light that streaks in through the windshield. He lifts a brow and she asks, “Did you and Jyn ever make up?”

“Yeah,” he answers slowly. “Yeah, we did.”

“You don’t sound too sure,” she says when the light turns green and brushes over the car until it fades in the dark.

“No, we definitely did,” he explains. “We just left things in a weird place, so I don’t really know what we’re doing anymore.”

“And was that your choice?”

He can’t help but laugh, sharp, short, and bitter. “My fault entirely, Mom.”

Mom hesitates before she asks, “What happened?” Her voice is quiet, like she’s giving him a way out, a way to say, _I don’t want to talk about it_.

Of course, that’s when they pull up to the supermarket, parking a fair distance away from the slide doors. And from here, it looks like a beacon against the dark, something looming in the distance that offers some warmth in the face of all this cold. Cassian takes his time getting out of the car, pulling on his gloves, before he falls into step next to his mom.

“We went on a date the weekend before I came home,” he starts, “and it was terrible. Like--it started late because she had a fight with her aunt, we had no idea what to talk about, and she dropped her phone. It’s completely broken. I’ll be honest, it scared me. I felt awkward just holding her hand, which made me wonder if we were forcing this to happen.”

“Were you?” Mom asks. “Forcing it, I mean.”

“In a way, I guess.”

“And what way is that?”

He thinks about it as they enter the store, from the dark to the bright, bright lights. Mom goes over to grab a basket and when she comes back he says, “I thought the way we acted had to be different in order to distance ourselves from our friendship, you know? Like we couldn’t keep doing what we were doing because that never went anywhere.”

“So what you’re really saying is that you sabotaged it before it _could_ go anywhere.”

They’re walking through the produce section when she says it, and it almost makes Cassian stop completely. Why does everyone else get to see it so much more clearly than he does? He shakes his head. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Cassian,” she starts, and they turn down an aisle. The store is exceptionally busy tonight, but it isn’t distracting enough to pull his attention away from the way she says, “Have you thought why you wanted to date her in the first place?”

The answer seems so simple. “She’s my best friend, Mom. I feel like I’ve known her forever.”

“Then maybe nothing had to change, Cass.”

“Yeah,” he says absently, staring at a box of black bean pasta when they get stuck behind a group of people who are stopped in the middle of the aisle. “That’s what I’m starting to realize.”

Mom offers him a sympathetic smile and places her hand on his upper arm, keeping him close for just a moment. “I think she makes you very happy, and that’s all I can ask for.”

Cassian let out a short breath that sounds something like a laugh, and he really wishes he could’ve figured this out earlier, before he left. All he can do is shuffle down the aisle with his mom and say, “Me too.”

\--

After dinner Cassian escapes out to the front steps. He sits on the bottom one, stretching his legs out in front of him and lighting up a cigarette he doesn’t really want to smoke. It’s a good excuse to get some time alone, to be outside in the cold night air without distraction.

The snow still looks fresh across the lawns around him, lit up by the front lights of the houses sitting back and away from the road. It’s something out of a dream--there’s that eerie shade of yellow white with a defined line to separate it from the blue gray snow that sits too far away to be reached. It’s bright and then dark, it’s warm and then cold.

Cassian’s hands shake from the cold but he breathes in warm smoke, exhaling it in long breaths that dance and dissipate away from him. He has his coat on but it doesn’t do much against this kind of night--nothing will--but he’s tired and lonely and wants to be alone.

The thing is--he’s done with all of the confusion, he’s tired of acting like he knows better when the truth is that he loves Jyn and all he wants is to be with her. His head hurts, a dull ache that crawls up the back of his neck, and all he can think is that he wishes Jyn were with him right now, sitting next to him and warming him up.

Cassian holds the cigarette between his lips as he pulls out his phone. He hasn’t had anything to drink but he feels that same impulsiveness he gets when he does, pulling up Jyn’s name and typing out a quick message. He knows Jyn would’ve texted him if she got a new phone, so he knows, logically, that there won’t be an answer, but it feels like he’s finally doing proactive instead of destructive.

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _Miss you._

And he’s right. She doesn’t text back, but Cassian holds the phone in his hand and smokes and smokes until the cigarette is nothing at all. Then he tips his head back, blowing out one long breath that looks a lot like smoke, and watches it turn into nothing at all.

His eyes blink until all he sees is the night sky, a deep, inked black, with stars spread across in patterns he doesn’t recognize. He casts away all his thoughts until it resembles nothing at all.

This is how Cassian Andor lets go.

\--

Jyn calls him on Christmas Eve, and everything else feels a little less important.

The whole family has just gotten home from dinner, and there’s that cozy warm feeling that comes over him whenever it’s like this. Casey’s excitement has dimmed into something much quieter as the night goes on, tired and anxious all at the same time. His parents, uncles, aunt, and grandparents are in the kitchen opening a bottle of wine when Cassian’s phone rings.

It’s a little before nine o’clock, and Cassian’s sitting with his cousins and Casey in the living room, but excuses himself the second he sees the name that flashes across the screen.

“Hello?” he says as he ascends the stairs, hurrying into his room and shutting the door behind him.

“Hey,” he hears Jyn say, and her voice sounds the same as it always does on the phone: far away but here, far away and a little metallic, but still here. “Sorry it took so long, I technically got a new phone on Monday but there were issues with the backup or whatever. It all worked out, though.”

Cassian smiles to himself, turning on the light in his room and stepping around the air mattresses on the floor in order to lean against the window. Just to listen to her is reassuring, just to know she’s there. “Sounds like it’s been an ordeal.”

“It’s been miserable, that’s for sure,” she says with a short laugh, but then her voice is more serious when she says, “I got your text.”

“Yeah?” he asks, thinking back to last night.

“Yeah,” she confirms, and if Cassian had to guess, he’d think she’s hesitant to bring it up because he’s the one who withdrew. He pulled back, and he knows he owes it to her to push forward again.

“I meant it,” he says, and his hand reaches out for the curtains, parting them a little to see the front lawn. “I miss you so much, this has been the longest we’ve ever gone without talking and it’s making me crazy. You’re all I think about.”

She hesitates again. “I thought this was what you wanted,” she says, but her voice is kind.

He shakes his head to himself, closing his eyes. He registers the feel of his phone against his ear and his cheek, the shock of cold seeping in at the crack of the window, and the way the regret pulls too easily at his mind. “I’m such an idiot, Jyn.”

“Well, at least you can admit it,” she jokes.

He smiles for a second before it falters. “I’m so sorry. This whole time I was arguing that we were already dating, but when we actually went on a date I argued that it had to be different. Stupidest idea in the world...”

“Just a little,” she agrees, and he can hear the smile in her voice. “I missed you too, for the record.”

It’s a little ridiculous just how encouraging that is to hear. “Sunday,” he says. “I’ll come home, and we can start again. For real this time.”

She laughs. “Oh, for real? I didn’t realize the worst date ever was just a practice date. Good to know.”

“It’s like how you should always throw the first pancake out,” he says. “It’s never as good as the rest.”

She laughs again, and it’s the best sound in the world. “You do realize that you’re a very strange boy.”

“You’re the one who wants to date me,” he defends, even as he grins to himself.

Jyn pauses for a moment before she asks, “So is that what we’re doing?”

“I’d like to,” he answers, pressing his lips together. “I mean, I wish we could talk about this in person, but yeah. I want it to be official. You and me.”

“Me too,” she says. “God help me.”

Cassian steps away from the window, tracing his way back to his bed. He can’t really define the spark of joy that resounds in his chest, it’s just there and it’s vibrant and it’s alive. It’s a feeling that could only be made better if Jyn were with him right now. He grins and he leans into the phones as he says, “Tell me about your week.”

“It was super boring.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “Tell me about it, I just want hear you talk.”

She hums into the speaker. “Okay, you sap.”

So Cassian sits back against the wall, pulls the blanket over his legs, and listens to Jyn’s voice as she goes over what she’s done--work, mostly--but also what’s been on her mind, how she had to find a ride to the mall in order to get a new phone, and everything she’s been doing in between.

He might not be able to have her here with him, but it’s the next best thing.

\--

December 26th finds the house finally empty again. His extended family packed up in the morning and drew out their goodbyes until now, where him, Casey, and his mom sit in the living room, finally able to enjoy the peace of the house again.

That is, until Mom says, “Oh Cassian, I talked to Aunt Katherine this morning and she said she’d be stopping by Wortham tonight. I was wondering if you could pick her up from the train station?”

He refrains from groaning to himself--knowing how far that’d get him. Instead he nods, asking, “What time?”

“Should be the 5:45 train, but it’ll be dark so please get there before she arrives. I don’t want her waiting by herself,” she says, and she smiles a little, like she can’t help it. Cassian looks at her for a second before he agrees, and he goes back to watching Casey play Candy Crush.

Eventually he pulls out his phone, checking the time, and sends a quick message to Jyn.

 **To: Jyn Erso  
** _Just when I think we’ve got the house to ourselves again, I have to go pick up my aunt._

 **From: Jyn Erso  
** _You poor baby_

He smiles. It’s good that some things haven’t changed at all.

\--

Once again it’s a cold, cold night, and Cassian sits in his car, hands wrapped around his phone as he watches the empty train platform. He’d been texting Jyn, but it’s been a few minutes since she’s answered him. That’s okay, he takes to watching the way his headlights outline the colorful sign in front of him. It has the train schedule on it, and he half daydreams while he waits and waits and waits.

The sky looks like it wants to snow but it’s holding back. Pink and gray clouds hang low in the sky, illuminated by the cold yellow lights of the station. Similar to Whitebridge, it’s just a long platform with an overhang over the benches, and Cassian feels like he was just here with Bodhi when it was somewhere else entirely.

Two places at once.

After a while he turns off the radio and the engine, just letting the quiet sit with him for a moment. It’s nice, the silence of winter, the emptiness of it. It’s nice to listen to the sound of his breathing and the wind and then the rush of the train as it pulls into station.

Cassian pulls on his gloves and decides to meet his aunt on the platform, considering how worried Mom was about her safety. Wortham couldn’t be a safer town, but it is dark and she’s alone, so he understands.

It’s not the night itself that’s freezing cold, but the wind that bites at his exposed skin, making him grit his teeth as he jogs up the concrete steps to the platform. There are plenty of people getting off the train, so Cassian keeps his eyes peeled for the recognizable shape of his aunt, scanning the crowd in the low light.

But then his eyes land on one shape that stands out from all the rest and Cassian stops where he is. At first he can’t move, convinced that it’s a trick of the light, but her eyes meet his and suddenly Cassian can’t feel the cold at all.

Because not even ten feet from where he stands, Jyn Erso steps onto the train platform.

She pushes her way through the crowd towards him, carrying her duffle bag in one hand while the other hangs loosely at her side. Her whole face falls before it shifts into a smile, and she jogs the last few feet towards him and drops her bag, hurling herself into his arms.

Cassian holds her as tightly as he can, shifting his arms again and again until he has her as close as he can. He can’t help it, bending down to press quick kisses along her jaw, up and over her cheeks, across the bridge of her nose as she laughs and clutches onto his jacket with a tight grip.

“Well,” he says, laughing to himself when he finally pulls back. “You look familiar.”

“Oh yeah?” she returns, and her voice is quiet as it shifts under the sound of the train pulling away. “I think I might’ve seen you around before.”

Cassian reaches up to put her hat back in place where it got messed up, and his hand smooths out her soft, soft hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I talked to your mom,” she says. “She said it would be okay if I came and visited. I couldn’t wait anymore.”

“I love you,” he says, and the words tumble out without his permission but he doesn’t regret it. Jyn’s eyes widen but it’s only a moment--a heartbeat--later that they crease into happy lines with her smile.

“I love you too,” she says, and her voice is determined even as she grins up at him. She leans in to kiss him once, twice, three times, and here they are: finally on the same page, finally in the same place, finally ready to move forward.

Here they are: home.

\--

❄

❄

❄

\--

“Have you seen my girlfriend?” Cassian asks a stranger in a busy kitchen, only the words come out muffled and a little sloppy, so he can’t be sure he really said them at all. There are Christmas lights wrapped around the walls even though it’s been a week since then, but it doesn’t even matter. With the way Cassian’s head feels, they blur together as he turns his attention towards the hallway.

Because it’s New Year’s Eve, he’s a little drunk, and he just wants to be near Jyn.

Whoever he asked isn’t even paying attention to him, so Cassian shakes his dizzy head and steps out of the kitchen. He keeps his eyes open for her, but all he sees are people he barely recognizes, except for Bodhi, who grins at him in the living room.

“It’s almost time,” he says over the noise, and Cassian has to focus on him intently to really understand what he’s saying.

Except, well, he doesn’t understand at all. “What?”

“New Year’s Eve,” Bodhi says this time as he leans in closer, his voice finally louder over the noise. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh,” Cassian exclaims when it finally dawns on him. “I gotta find Jyn!”

Bodhi rolls his eyes. “Of course you do. I think I saw her go out back.”

“Thank you,” he says, before turning himself around, looking for the back door. This is Brianna’s house, he thinks. He’s only been here once before, but never inside. Either way, it’s just the same as all the other houses in Whitebridge, even though all the lights are off except for the string lights wrapped around the room, illuminating the shadows of faces, bodies, people, and the silver and blue balloons that kiss the ceiling.

He catches Leia’s eye, she’s standing in the corner with Han, and they’re close and relaxed and so different than they have been every other time Cassian’s seen them. She returns Cassian’s smile, and Han looks over his shoulder to offer a grin of his own. Who would’ve thought they’d all end up here?

It nearly takes him too long to find the back door, and once he’s out the cold hits him all at once. From the flood light, though, he can see Jyn standing alone by the steps that lead down to a snow covered lawn. Everything feels exposed by the light, even Cassian himself--raw and alive and _here_ \--as he moves towards her.

“It’s cold,” he calls out.

She smirks, but she reaches a hand out towards him anyway, wrapping her arm around his waist once he’s within reach. “Baby.”

“Come here,” he says, even though they’re already touching. “Warm me up.”

“I take it back,” she says, even though she slips both arms into his jacket and holds him flush against her. “You’re a bossy baby.”

Her head tilts back to look up at him, exposing the long, pale line of her neck, and this is what Cassian will always remember about this night: Jyn’s green eyes lit up by the floodlight, watching him as intently as she did the first time they met. A different party, a different back deck, but the same people.

“You love me,” he says, and he likes to say it because it’s true, because they’ve spent every day together since they first said it and it keeps getting better--because he’s still learning to let go of the past and let them be exactly what they are.

“Maybe,” she answers with a grin. “Probably.”

He shakes his head, unable to ignore the rush of fondness he feels watching her smile. “It’s almost midnight, Jyn.”

She lifts her brows. “Really? You should close your eyes, then.”

“Why?” he asks with a laugh, recognizing that way her voice sounds when she has her drunk ideas.

“So I can--” she starts, but breaks off with a laugh. “So I can say, _I’ll see you next year, Cass_.”

“Oh my god.”

“Will you just do it? Please?”

Cassian closes his eyes, and it’s a funny feeling because it feels like he’s still moving even as he stands still, and all he’s aware of is the way Jyn’s body presses against his, warm and secure.

He’s expecting her to say it, but what happens instead is she shifts against him, leaning up to press her lips to his. His eyes stay closed but he smiles into it, meeting her movement for movement in a silly, wonderful, unexpected kiss.

\--

_Ten._

_Nine._

_Eight._

_Seven._

_Six._

_Five._

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is it, friends! This story is one that I've wanted to write for a long, long time, but didn't seem right until Rogue One came out. I can't believe it's taken a year to do, and I can't believe how LONG it ended up being, but I'm so, so happy to finish it. Thank you, dear reader, for your patience, your reviews, and for all the kudos. You have been an unbelievable, wonderful, encouraging audience and I'm just so grateful that you've taken the time to read this. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
> 
> If you want to discuss anything or just say hi, come find me on [tumblr](http://halflunar.tumblr.com/)! Much love!! xx


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